


dead of night

by marzana



Category: Teen Titans (Animated Series)
Genre: Angst, Drama, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Love Triangles, Romance, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-18
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2019-11-23 12:26:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 33,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18151871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marzana/pseuds/marzana
Summary: hi! feel free to talk to me on tumblr: marzannaruza.tumblr.comthank you for reading <3





	1. falling

It begins at night, and so it goes.

Her weakest moments always seemed to manifest under moonlight, a reminder of nature's indifference. Or, maybe, that she deserved to fall. She did not thrive in the night, despite the beauty she found in it. The darkness did not belong to her. Even when she began to crave it.

Summer hit the city without warning, leaving the air thick and muggy. She soaked in the heat while everyone else suffered, as she did every year — nothing could ever nourish her soul like the sun.

Except, maybe, the love she has. The love she feels. Love for someone in particular.

The same love that began to taste bitter in the back of her throat, that threatened to suffocate her. He still didn't know.

He hadn't found her yet. She had left his side, confident and capable. He had told her to stay. For the first time, she did not listen.

She flew away from him. Everyone else was on their own. Why couldn't she be? She was fulfilling her duty. He doesn't own her, and he never did, she had to remind herself. Her fury was building, burning her insides. He could not have her.  _She would not be his_.

But instead of red, her vision goes black. When she comes to, all she remembers is falling.

Her eyes flutter open to him. A light, warm drizzle fell over them, nearly lulling her back to sleep. It hurt less to give in. To forget where she was. What brought her here to this life. He says her name so softly, like in the dreams she's had, the ones where the world doesn't take so much from her. She moans, struggling to wake, despite the wetness under her, the strong arms lifting her.

He must love her. Somehow, some way.

And yet.

Her body was heavy, her head lolling from side to side. A dull ache comes to life. Somewhere she can't place quite yet. And all she could think, all she wished, was that she wasn't so weak. So, so weak. Weaker than she'd ever been.

She barely registers when the rain disappears. When her arm swings in the air like dead weight. How the voice she hears when she gives in sounds. Rumbling, teasing.

"You should've stayed with Robin."

 

* * *

 

In her dreams, everyone she loves dies. He is the last to go. He always is. Every time, she wakes in a cold sweat before day had even broke in the sky. Her mind seemed to torture her endlessly. She had never truly learned how to ease it.

Fear coursed its way through her body as she woke, her heart beating too fast, ready to jump out of her chest. She did not know the darkness she was in. Her head and heart ached in it regardless.

Pain shot through her side as she sat up, making her dizzy. She gasped loudly, and it echoed, snapping her back to reality.

She does not know where she is.

And she does not know who is with her.

In an instant she's on her feet, eyes glowing green. Her starbolt, while steady, was not strong.

" _Who is there?"_ she demands, voice deep and gravelly. She emits more energy, fighting the nausea rolling through her.

"You should be thanking me, princess."

"For  _what_?"

"Keeping you from bleeding out."

" _Reveal yourself."_

Her starbolt flickers.

"I've been watching you, princess. Losing your grip, huh?"

The girl growls, struggling to maintain her energy. She didn't know if she could fight. She didn't know what to do. She felt her veins pulsing, willing her to just  _collapse_ , but her fear was stronger. The only thing about her that seemed to be strong anymore.

"Is Boy Blunder not  _fucking_  you right, princess? You know, I cou-"

She flings her starbolt at the stranger, knocking him on his ass. It was all she could muster. Her energy burnt out right after.

She catches a glimpse of him under the mocking moonlight. Dark hair, pale skin. A smirk. A mask.

She flies through the open window, unable to fight. Too weak to.

He looks so much like him.

Despite the sticky heat, goosebumps rose along her skin. Her stomach twisted, panic sinking in. The world seemed wrong. Unfair. Cruel. All her life, it kept her breathless. And now her body was giving up. She felt her strength fading, bit by bit, fading without reason. If she could not fight any longer, what was her purpose?

Tears poured down her face, and with each one, gravity pulled her down until she hit the ground again, though softer than the last time. She found that the sun was beginning to break through the stars. She sat there, unmoving. Heavy and hypnotized. Her head began to grow light. Every blink threatened to knock her down even further. She is vulnerable. Aching.

A distorted beep sounds from her side, causing her heartbeat to pick up dangerously fast once again. It was too loud in the dense air.

She had forgotten in her panic. It took too much energy to pick the communicator off her belt and open it. Half of the screen is broken, black covering half of his face. Her heartache. Her savior.

"Starfire,  _where_  are you,  _please_  - "

"I am weak Robin."

" _Star - "_

"Help me."

All she remembers is falling.

 

* * *

 

Over the past year, he'd grown taller.

And distant.

It took awhile to place her finger on it; he changed, gradually, subtly, and she could not figure out why.

His hands were almost always on her. Stroking her cheek, rubbing her arms, grabbing her hips, wrapping around her ankles. Just about everywhere. His touch soothed and burned. Sent her in a spiral. Like she was back up in space, flying free, free, free.

She never had a problem leaning into his warmth and comfort. He practically made her  _purr_. But he was not the same. He held her close, physically, but never close enough. Like he'd die if his hands weren't on her.

Like he'd die if it went any further.

Her best friend did not choose to confide in her anymore. It was something she missed dearly, what made her love him. He did not seem to be aware. For that reason, she had been so terrified to push, to simply  _ask_. He was so opposite of he nature, she just didn't know how. After awhile, his touch began to hurt.

She seemed to belong to him, but he was not hers, would  _never_  be. The imbalance made her ache in the chest. Another prolonged instance of being owned, yet unloved.

So when she opens her eyes once more, and finds that it's really  _him_  this time — looking  _too much_ older than eighteen — she almost wishes he weren't her first sight. Almost.

She moans at the throbbing on her side, reaching to touch it, but he's quick to take her hand in his and lay it back down. His presence overwhelms her. Twists her gut at the sheer emotion just his  _scent_  brings. He's whispering to her. Filling the empty space in the room.

"You're okay, Star. I'm here now."

And truthfully, the softness breaks her.

She cries. What more is there to do? She could do nothing else but succumb to the pain. To the weakness.

He holds her head to his chest, stroking her tangled hair. She didn't want to need him. Not anymore.

The ghost of a kiss brushes her forehead. This is the closest he's ever come. And it only happens now, when she is broken.

"I am weak, weak, weak, weak…" she gasps between breaths, as if she were a child again.

"No, Star. You're not weak. Never."

His lips litter tiny misses along her head. They're meant to heal. Yet they burn holes in her skull.

"It's my fault, Starfire. My fault. Please don't cry anymore," he speaks softly in her ear.

Just as she's had enough of his suffocating embrace, ready to push him away, to  _hurt_ him, another voice speaks.

"Robin, she's bleeding again. Let me finish healing the wound."

His breath is finally away from her skin, though he's slow to set her back down on whatever it is she's lying on. His thumb rubs her chin while he splays the rest of his hand on the side of her neck, creating an uncomfortable heat. She just barely notices something wet and warm rolling down her side. She's fading out again. She doesn't want to be awake. Her vision was too blurry. Still, she catches sight of violet eyes. A sigh of relief escapes her.

"You're okay, Star. You've been hurt, but it's healing. You're in the infirmary."

The empath is careful to remove the bandage from her stomach — X'hal, she didn't even feel it there until now — and heard her utter her spell. Starfire mewled in pain, the black energy healing her wound at once.

"Raven," his panicked voice spoke.

"Robin. You know how it goes," she says. "Just a little longer, Star," she whispers to her friend.

She was reduced to whimpers, eyes flickering green. Even through all of this, she could feel his stare. Singing her. Stealing her breath. She couldn't heal. Not with him there. It drove her absolutely crazy. It made her want to  _scream_.

And so she does.

It rips from her throat, releasing the pain she felt  _everywhere_ , and then it ends as quickly as it came. Her wound begins to sting again; the black magic is no longer coating it.

She heard footsteps approaching, an overlap of words.

"What's wrong?"

"What  _happened_?"

"We don't know. She's in a lot of pain."

"God, it looks so deep."

"Hush. Cyborg, check her vitals again. Beast Boy, get a clean bandage and a cold compress. She's burning up."

"Got you." "On it."

Her breath is shallow. It's all she could do without intensifying the pain. She feels a cool hand over her heart, exhaling deeply when it forces her heart rate to decrease.

"Her vitals are normal. So what the  _hell_  is wrong?"

"Maybe it's… psychological."

"Psychological?" He's by her side again.

"Maybe her mind won't allow her to heal."

"C'mon Raven, that's  _bullshit_. She  _has_ to heal."

"Relax, Rob. It sounds plausible. Raven can't heal Star if Star don't wanna be healed, for whatever reason. Besides, hasn't this happened before?"

"I've got the stuff. Let's patch 'er up."

The girl is instantly soothed by whatever is placed on her forehead. She had begun to sweat. Hands are on her again, the heat contrasting with her newfound cool.

She knows it's him without even looking, drifting in and out between awake and asleep. Her body knows his touch, indefinitely. Oh, how funny and how heartbreaking it was. That her savior is the one who broke her, too.

He spreads something along her wound before carefully placing a bandage over it. It still hurts, but less so.

She's had enough. She needs to rest. Sleep came to her easily then, enveloping her with its tender darkness. As she goes back out again, they continue to speak; his words were always the final ones.

"My question is… who treated her wound in the first place?"

Then there is nothing.

 

* * *

 

On Tamaran, she was free. Every emotion was raaw, unfiltered, an  _experience_. She was well aware that X'hal blessed her with a childhood full of joy.

So in turn, when her heart breaks, she is left beyond repair. Her heart broke when she lost her parents, when she lost her home due to war. Each and every single time her sister tried to harm her, and each time she succeeded. When she landed on Earth, feral and scared and alone.

When he turned around.

Pushed her away.

She was intricately crafted from birth to be a  _warrior_ , to be no less than strong and resilient. She overcame much in seventeen years, the sun mending her endlessly, forgiving her each day. Reminding her of exactly who she was.

Koriand'r, Princess of Tamaran. A fighter. A protector.

A lover.

Despite it all, her heart remained tender. But for the first time in her life, it was too much so. When her heart broke, the damage was irreparable. Nothing ever filled the voids of her past losses, her lifelong grief; she had no choice but to go on, honoring her bloodline and home planet's legacy. She carried it with her in each breath - how can she not?

It all had to cave in on her at some point.

Once more she rose, and without a thought, she left the room. The sun was calling for her. It is all she needs. To come back to herself again.

Once she reaches the roof of the tower, (how, she does not recall) she all but collapses laying like an angel of snow in the glorious light of the sun. Nothing else existed. Nothing else mattered.

That is until she was aware of her clothes sticking to her skin, preventing her from absorbing the healing light all throughout her body. She couldn't move, though; she was still too weak to. Of course she was weak, how could she forget? Of course.

" _Star_?"

And of course he finds her. He always does.

"I left the infirmary for one second, and you were  _gone_. Are you okay?" he speaks in one breath.

"Robin." It takes all her willpower just to speak.

"Starfire…"

She did not want to open her eyes. She did not want to see him.

After a long pause, he repeats her name, nearly panting it.

"Remove my clothing."

He's silent, until.

"W-What?"

"I require. Sun." Her energy drains with each word. Each second he's standing there helplessly.

"Maybe I should get Raven…"

"Robin." Her breath comes in short bursts.

"Y-Yeah?"

" _Now_."

Finally, he complies. X'hal, he could be so ridiculous at times. Couldn't he see that she was  _starving_ for the sun's light? She couldn't care any less about modesty at the moment.

He begins with her armor, gently prying it off her arms before reaching for her breast plate. He has to exert more force, leaving him muttering apologies to which she replies with a hum. She hears him gulp before reaching for her boots, pulling them off smoothly. She felt the healing process speed up, but it was nowhere near done. He sat dumbly beside her, no longer obliging her demand.

"Robin," she sighed.

"Yeeeaahhh?"

" _Please_."

"Okay, okay, okay…"

His deft fingers turned awkward once they graced her hips, as if he never touched her before. She began to grunt in annoyance, willing him to just  _hurry. Up._  He took a deep breath before shimmying her skirt off of her, extra careful to not accidentally roll her underwear down as well. Truthfully, she did not care one bit. He had to lift her slightly to get it out from under her, and his sorry's only irritated her.

"Is that better?" His voice was comically high-pitched.

She would have laughed if he wasn't such an annoying clorbag.

"Not quite."

"... Starfire. I'm going to get Raven."

"If you do not comply this instant - "

"Alright, alright,  _fine_ ," the boy hastily replies, sitting her up. He leans her forehead on his shoulder and grips the hem of her top. "Alright, I got you Star. I always got you."

"Dude…"

On instinct, Robin crushes her body to him, protecting her from sight with his cape wrapped around her. It would have made her smile under any other circumstance.

"It's not what you think!"

"We know y'all got a  _thing_ , but… dude…"

" _She asked me to!_ "

Starfire is laying on the roof again, gently placed down by Raven's magic. Robin yells in surprise. She assumes Raven has him in her energy's grip.

"You could've called me up,  _genius_."

"I - I - I - she growled at me! I was going to, she wouldn't let me!"

"Are you sure?" She hears Robin grunt under the constriction. "YES! I swear! Why would I ever  _do_  that to her?!"

"Robin is telling the truth," she utters as loudly as she can. "I am too weak. I require the light of the sun."

" _Out_ ," Raven growls before the slam of a door. She runs to the alien girl's side, to which she finally opens her heavy, heavy eyes. Starfire can't help but smile at the worry etched on her friend's face. Oh, how she loved her so.

"I promise that what you have just witnessed was done of my own volition."

Raven chuckles. "You should've seen his face."

"I can imagine."

The girls share a light laugh in the midst of the heat. Just this small, fleeting moment of joy, gives her strength.

"How're you feeling?"

Starfire rolled her head to her direction, gaze lazy and unfocused. "Truthfully, friend Raven, I do not know."

"Do you remember what happened?"

"I remember falling," she says without thought. She's quick to recover. "I remember speaking to Robin. And that is all."

"We're glad you're okay."

She cannot agree; she does not reply.

"I tried to heal you last night. It was like… your body rejected it."

"Hmm…"

"Do you know why?"

"I'm afraid I do not," she replies, eyes closing again. "I merely require the light of the sun."

"I know. Do you want me to complete Boy Wonder's failed mission?"

Starfire giggles airily. "That would be most appreciated."

Raven is quick to work her top off through the use of her powers. Starfire relaxes. The light touches her heart. She hums contentedly; out of everything, it is the most sore.

"Is it okay if I stay here with you for awhile?"

"As you wish."

The energy slowly pours into her, as sweet and warm as her mother's lullabies. It was all she wanted, all she needed - rest, and a good friend. It didn't take her long to dream.

 

* * *

 

He kisses her deep, desperately. Slips his tongue in her mouth, wanting nothing more than to taste her. She's crushed against him, an arm around her waist and the other holding her neck neck, keeping her still and keeping her  _his_.

In her dreams, he lets himself belong to her. It's always in the dead of night. Always starts at his command.

"You're all I want, I don't care, you're all I want…" he'd mumble into her the crook of her neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses up to her jaw and along it. She could never believe it, but obliges regardless, afraid she'd wake up.

In her dreams, the world falls into place. She never falls, except in love. He makes her moan and purr and sigh with his touch, always so calculated and beautiful on every inch of her skin. Every movement spread heat to her core, and for a little while, she's shameless, thriving,  _loved_.

If only he loved her the way she loved him.

"Star, I don't see you that way."

This is how it always ends. Her on her knees. Watching him walk away.

 

* * *

 

"I'll take it from here."

Raven comes down from her trance, turning to her team leader with a frown. Starfire still laid beside her. Once the sun had begun to set, she put her clothes back on, leaving aside her armor. She spent the afternoon attempting to keep herself cool, meditating, and reading beside her friend.

"Hmm. And what if she wakes up?" He had to refrain from coming up, watching over her. He knew she was in safe hands. Still, his mind wandered too much, set him in an unbridled panic he had to sweat out.

"What do you mean? Don't you  _want_  her to wake up?"

"I don't know if she wants to wake up to you."

He physically recoils from her words. A bitch smack right on his face. The truth. He doesn't speak, knowing he would stutter.

"Look, Robin, I don't know if something happened between you guys…" she begins, a little nicer.

"Uhh… me neither," he mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck. Raven rolls her eyes.

"I sensed a lot of pain from her. It could just be her wound. But it was so intense, especially after I tried to heal her. I almost couldn't stand it."

He shuffles from foot to foot, guilt overwhelming him. "I'm sorry for lashing out on you before. I was being a dick."

"You could say that again," Raven smirks. Robin just glares at her.

"Her pain is emotional. Again, I don't know what it is. But if it's because of you, you better  _fix it_."

"Why would you think it's  _me_?"

Raven sighs. Loudly. "You boys are really a bunch of idiots."

" _Hey_!"

"Shh, she's sleeping." She's mocking him now. She reaches for her book, ignoring him.

He blubbers, caught off guard. God. He already apologized. " _Raven_ ," he says as sternly as he can, but it's been a long time since she's been intimidated by him.

"You're free to go now."

"No! I want to stay with her."

"Like I said. Probably not the best idea."

" _That's an order_ ," he says through gritted teeth. And just as she's about to  _send his ass_  back inside, she speaks.

Or, well. Moans.

"Robin…"

They both freeze, locking their gaze on Starfire. She was still asleep, but her breathing was beginning to pick up. Her whole body seemed to be blushing.

The two finally look at each other, the discomfort palpable. It seemed to be… exactly how it looked.

"I'll check on her later," the girl says before walking off. She did  _not_ want to be a part of this. "Ummm, yeah, okay," he replies stupidly. Once the door of the roof shuts, he's sits beside her, wringing his fingers together. "I'm here, Star," he says meekly. God, she was so beautiful. She was practically glittering under the golden light of the setting sun. He almost forgets to breathe.

Then he forgoes it entirely when she begins to writhe, uttering his name so sweetly. And much louder.

Heat spreads along his neck and face, and god forgive him, it shoots right down to his dick. He can't even  _think._ Think of anything except  _fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck_. He must've done something  _awful_  to be tortured like this.

And then, oh, thankfully, she lays still, though her eyebrows are furrowed, and she began to sweat. He could lean forward, get a little taste, just a little closer…

He is losing his goddamn mind.

It's crumbling, fading away. He's going absolutely, stupidly,  _insane_. All because of her. All because of  _her_ …

She must know, somehow, it must be deliberate. A genius form of torture. But how could she  _know_? Has he been  _that obvious_ these past couple of years? He couldn't have been.

He watches as she arches her back slightly off the ground. Listens as she mewls and sighs. He was done. He needed it to end.  _Now_.

"Star, I'm gonna take you to bed, okay? The sun's setting. Okay?" he says, as if she'd answer. Gently, he lifts her, cradling her head onto his chest while his left arm is tucked under her knees. She felt dainty and delicate in his arms. Fragile. Stunning.

He felt dirty compared to her purity. Soulless compared to her compassion. He can't help but be around her, to  _touch_  her. Stupidly, he let her become his sanity. His anchor. And now she was so, so close to becoming his lifeline.

If he loses her.

If he loses her, he loses himself.

He carries her downstairs and to her room, placing her on her bed. He doesn't miss how she instantly sinks onto her covers, relaxing into the support of the mattress. She looked so at peace, snoring lightly. Gorgeous.

He hesitates before placing a kiss upon her cheek, hoping she knew, hoping she knew. "Sweet dreams, Star," he coos in the silence.

Slowly, he rises to walk away.

"Don't you dare ever kiss me  _again_." Her eyes glow a poisonous green, words made of pure venom. " _Or else_."

She's asleep once more. All that's in the air is her sweet breathing.


	2. the aftermath

He’s died twice before. Once when he was murdered. Y’know.  _ Brutally _ . 

The second time, when he came back to life.

Like, yeah, it’s  _ his _ body. Maybe better described as his own reanimated corpse. (It’s strange to think that  _ maybe _ you’re currently haunting your own body, but it’s not like he really lets himself think much. Or, at least, wants to.)

But he came back, and his eyes were dead, and no one who should know that he’s alive knows that he’s alive. It’s an absolute fucking joke, and sometimes, he laughs about it. 

Really, it’s a tragedy he never asked, let alone wanted, to be a part of. He asks the walls why it was  _ him _ that got a second chance,  _ a whole ‘nother fucking life in this bitch world _ , but they only stare back. 

And maybe he was starved for human interaction of any kind. Maybe his conscience hadn’t completely left him,  _ maybe _ his heart hadn’t shriveled up and died along with the rest of him. Maybe it was because he knew exactly who she was.

He’s been thinking about that night nonstop. Hell, he’s been  _ dreaming _ about it, in the time he actually manages to fall asleep. They weren’t exactly pleasant dreams, but they endeared him. They were better than his usual nightmares. And honestly, he could still smell the rain. Her blood. 

The poor girl was bleeding out by a vacant building on an empty street. The one he happened to be…  _ living _ in. It felt dirty, and just  _ wrong _ to touch her, but he had to lift her back inside, to keep her from dying the way he had. 

He knows what he said, and he doesn’t know why he did. It made more sense to be rotten. It felt safer to be cruel. He was meant to be selfish. That doesn’t stop him from regretting being such an  _ asshole _ . 

He didn’t know why he cares, either.

Maybe, one day, he’ll apologize. But probably not.

It’s just that there’s something about her, and it makes his mind go on and on and on. Something like a light in the dark, and he can’t help but walk towards it, hypnotized. It reminds him of something warm. From his life before. 

She was like a vague memory from childhood, and even though you couldn’t remember much, it still filled you to the brim with nostalgia. She seemed so… missing,  _ hurt _ , out of place. Vulnerable, but god  _ damn,  _ he couldn’t place the feeling he got when he saw her on the ground. 

He doesn’t know a lot about her, but he knows enough. Whoever or whatever hurt her really struck her down, caught her off guard. It was kinda… sad. 

He had heard  _ his _ garbled voice through the pager or whatever the hell it was on her belt, calling for her. Then it turned to static. He wasn’t gonna pick it up, anyways. 

Her blood is still on the carpet. He cleaned her wound pretty good, but he’s not really good at cleaning much else. It was really annoying him right now, but he’ll die a third time before he gets his ass up and cleans some alien chick’s bodily fluids off a floor that  _ technically  _ doesn’t belong to him.

The blood stain mocks him. 

He’ll see her soon. Call it a dead man’s intuition.

* * *

The gash healed, for the most part. It ran discolored underneath her ribcage and ended at the curve of her waist. She skims warm fingers over it, not knowing how it came to be. Or, really, not wanting to remember. Not now.

Her skin lacked its golden hue. Her eyes appeared dead, gone.

She’d lost some weight, to her dismay. Her appetite had left her weeks ago, nausea filling her instead of the meals she was supposed to have with her friends, all the pizzas and sandwiches and waffles along with her other favorite foods. She couldn’t bring herself to enjoy much anymore. Even more disheartening, mustard made her feel queasy. Any attempt to eat made her stomach roll for reasons she couldn’t even begin to explain.

She hadn’t really looked at her body until now, standing awkwardly in front of the bathroom mirror. Her hip bones jutted out unattractively. Her collarbones were too visible. Face too gaunt, knees too knobby, the embodiment  of a sullen girl. It made her feel ill, looking at herself. When had this happened? When did she lose her curves, her muscles, her  _ strength _ ? She is made of angles now. Sharp and clean-cut and a second away from breaking.

A hot flash of shame makes her turn away from her reflection.

She was sick of looking at herself, searching for what was not there. Would never  _ be _ there. Her vibrancy, it slipped away from her, and her body began to pay the price.

She did not recall much about the day before, but what she did recall was the pain. It was merciless, debilitating, had made her act in a way that she had not in a long time. With a grimace she steps into a steaming shower, ready to wash the remnants of the past few days away. Starfire sighs as the hot water soothes her sore muscles. Showers always felt the most glorious after a long, tough battle. 

Or, in this case, a long couple of days she could barely remember. 

She dares to reach down to her wound, touching it more firmly than she had before. It still hurt, like a deep bruise that had just begun to heal, but nowhere near as bad as yesterday.

Yesterday.

She cringes at the memory of making Robin expose her. While the circumstances did call for it, he had not wanted to. Not that he did not want to help her. He did not want to see her body. It gives her an odd mix of discomfort and relief to know this. Regardless, the embarrassment spreads through her just as quickly as she scrub, scrub, scrubs her skin, reddening under the dizzying heat that was almost too much for her to bear. 

Starfire makes sure to wash every inch of herself from head to toe, practically rubbing her skin raw. She ignores the redness all over her as she steps out of the shower and dries herself off. She slips her uniform on, fighting this overwhelming urge to cover herself up. Never had she been… anything less than  _ proud  _ of her body, yet here she was. As if her heart had not broken enough. 

She steps out, passing by her reflection. But then she’s knocked backward, tipping over until she’s held steady by hands stronger than her spirit. They tighten on her back before pulling away, as if her very being burned. She cannot decide if she misses them or not

Starfire has to raise her head to look at him now. Even the slight motion makes her feel ill; still, she smiles. “Good morning, Robin,” she says softly, hoping to get it over with. He smiles back sheepishly. He instantly reaches to rub the back of his neck. “Morning, Star. You’re looking a lot better,” he replies, voice far away.

“Yes, I am feeling  _ much _ better. I trust that you slept well.”

“Well, uhh…” he bites the corner of his lip so perfectly, “actually, Star, I had trouble falling asleep last night.” 

She tilts her head. “And why is that?”

“I was worried about you.”

She doesn’t know why she’s surprised. It must be the way he looks at her. The way he makes her feel so protected, despite driving her beyond the point of sanity. She could almost see his eyes through the mask. Almost.

She laughs softly, sugar sweet. “You do not have to worry about me. I have healed greatly through rest and sun.”

“Yeah, sun… definitely sun,” he chuckles nervously. She looks down at her feet, cheeks instantly flushing red.

“My sincerest apologies, Robin. I did not mean to put you in that situation. I was in an indescribable amount of pain. I hope you understand.” 

He does not respond right away, and she is afraid to look up. She feels like a child, admitting guilt and waiting for the punishment. She wishes she could remain unapologetic and thank him instead for listening to her at all, but she lacks the strength and the will. 

He had shot her down just days ago, and she cannot, for the life of her, figure out how to get back up. 

“Star…” he sighs, almost pitifully, and she despises it. He lifts his arm as if to touch her, but he hesitates. “Of course I understand. I…  _ I _ should be the one apologizing.”

She looks up at him then, head tilted and eyes questioning. 

“I didn’t want to, y’know… put you in such a…  _ compromising position _ .” He coughs awkwardly, almost comically, but she was not in the mood to laugh. “I just… I know you were… in a lot of pain, I just didn’t… y’know… yeah. I’m a jerk. Was a jerk.” The poor boy is dying right in front of her. It brings her the slightest, sickest pleasure, but the hot shame stifled it. Starfire manages a small smile of reassurance, and it is met with a nervous one of his own. 

When had they come to this? When had they strayed so far away from their ease, their synchronicity, their unbridled companionship?

Why bother to ask herself questions she already knew the answer to?

Her eyes bore into his domino mask, and it slips out before she can stop it: “You are forgiven. I understand that you did not want to see my body.”

She could  _ hear _ how fast he shakes his head, so taken aback at her words. Her brows furrow, almost challenging him. Saying, “is that not the truth? Did you not make it clear that you do not want me in that way?”

He blinks stupidly, stuttering. Unable to justify his reaction. She rolls her eyes, uncharacteristically so, but he brings it out of her. She begins to walk away.

“I shall ‘see you around,’” she says, but then his hand is wrapped around her arm. His touch, it burned, it killed, it cured. She eyed his grip on her instead of him.

“Star, you know I don’t mean it like that.”

“Then how  _ do _ you mean it? I believe you have made it the  _ obvious _ .”

He squeezes her flesh before releasing her, all so quickly she barely registers it. She shouldn’t be so on edge, but she can’t help the anger that rises within her. He doesn’t know how to respond, how to make it better. He never does. So he does not.

“What’s it matter to you?” he finally manages with a bit of venom, more than he’s directed at her in… ever. “We’re  _ just friends _ , Starfire. Nothing more, nothing less. Friends don’t undress each other.  _ Especially _ boy and girl friends. Do you know what that leads to? Hm?”

She had stepped away from him, looking down the hall to avoid the discomfort of his sudden outburst. His tone softens, only a bit, but it’s enough to reignite the humiliation she already felt.

“It leads to intimacy. It leads to...  _ sex _ ,” he huffs out as if he can’t believe he has to say the dreaded word out loud. It reverberates in her mind, sinking deeper into her each time, stinging. 

As much as he is her peace,  _ X’hal _ , he is her pain. And when silence remains, he fills the air again, quiet enough so that it belonged only to them.

“I made it clear, Starfire. Don’t turn this into something it’s not.” 

He leaves her to stand alone. Not for the first time, and not the last.

* * *

That night, the alarm sounds.

She’d been praying for her strength to return under the stretch of moonlight upon her bedroom floor. She wanted —  _ needed —  _ a chance at redemption, a renewed sense of purpose to replace the one that had slipped out between her fingers. She had only just lost herself, and already, she longed to come back.

She has to come back. She wants to kill the weakness within her. 

But the look on his face sends a shiver down her spine, and she is left stunned at her own doorway.

“You’re not joining us tonight,” he says, and she regrets the way it turns her blood to ice.

“Why, Robin? I am the  _ okay _ ,” she says as calmly as she can, but her voice trembles under the pressure. His expression is unmoving, almost scarily determined on having her sit out. It sparked this panic deep down in the bottom of her stomach. Reminding her too much of home.

He’s…  _ glowering _ at her. A flash of heat overcomes her, and then it’s gone.

“You’re not fully healed. I’m not risking anything.”

“ _ I am able to fight,”  _ she says. She emits her energy out of shaking hands, eyes glowing and holding his gaze until they flicker and die.

“ _ What _ ,” she sighs in disbelief, struggling once again to maintain her starbolts. His frown only deepens.

“You’re staying here tonight. That’s an  _ order _ .”

She hates that she wants to cry. That the tears brim her eyes. 

That he can see them.

She doesn’t turn away quickly enough. 

He swiftly slips his hand on the side of her neck, pulling her closer to him. His lips graze her cheek, so close it sickens her. So far it unsettles her.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers in her ear, and then he’s gone. 

The tears flow. She curses his name under her breath.

* * *

It’s a special kind of hell when you make a girl cry.

Even when she looks absolutely breathtaking when she does. 

He had no time to look back, and no chance of undoing his deliberate damage. The pressure in his chest alleviated once he got away from her, but still, it remained. And she remained alone. 

He cringes at his resolve. His utter lack of compassion towards the most compassionate being he has ever come across in his whole entire  _ life _ .

“Yo, is Star coming?”

“Nah. She’s not feeling well.”

He curses his own name.

* * *

She remembers her mother’s smile, how she hoped she’d one day have one as brilliant as hers. She remembers her father’s laugh, deep and infectious, how she’d heard it in her brother at times. She remembers the gleam of her sister’s eyes, back when they were kind to her.

She remembers becoming enslaved. Enduring. Surviving but not living. Escaping. Coming to Earth. Finding a new home. Falling in love.

She remembers the tenderness he gave to her name. Every time his lips ghosted across her skin. The peace he always seems to bring to her, growing more precious each time. The adoration and respect. Humiliation.

Regret.

“We can’t be anything more than this.”

The world dims and she drifts off.

* * *

Her hips are in his hands, crushed against him. It always starts off like this, so demanding and without words. It fills her with heat and drains her head.

Thoughtless, he’s thoughtless in her daydreams and in her sleep, and she likes him best that way. His fingertips run up the very center of her back and she writhes against him. She feels his smirk under her lips and she sighs. 

He is always tender, yet firm. Handling her just enough so she couldn’t slip away, and he slips his tongue into her mouth so smoothly she forgets to breathe. It sends her in a spiral, how could it not? 

“ _ X’hal… _ ” Merely a whisper, a prayer in the night.

He lays her down sweetly, kissing her hot and wet down her bare neck and chest. She shudders. Anticipating and waiting and losing her mind again. She thinks he takes it away every time, and it leaves her once more when he inches down, closer, closer, closer.

“You’re my best friend,” he says, but it flies past her with a kiss on her center. She arches her back. She has nothing to say.

He spreads her apart. “Nothing more, nothing less.”

He leans in. She crashes down and awake.

The air in her room is humid and thick. She has no idea what time it is, didn’t even realize she had fallen asleep. She’s sweating all over, and her sheets had come off her bed. The dream comes back to her slowly. It makes her chest ache. The amount of emotions she had at the moment was absolutely  _ not okay _ , and they are only made worse when she notices the throbbing at her core. 

Her breath is too fast now. She tries to breathe as Raven taught her. Slowly and deeply and deliberately and  _ his kiss his mouth on her  _ and then she stops breathing entirely.

She thinks she’s been damned to eternal suffering here on Earth.

The dreams — perhaps, nightmares —- had been plaguing her for weeks. He’s been her single thought for too long now. The subject of her discontent and pleasure, and she was beginning to have enough. The growl that comes out of her is low. Nearly inhumane. That’s what he does to her.

The only one.

And it would be wonderful,  _ romantic _ even, if she had the same effect on him, and, perhaps, if everything he told her not too long ago was a complete lie and he would just give himself to her already, but nothing made sense anymore and nothing matters when you’re suffering from the symptoms of unrequited love. The  _ craving  _ coats her from the inside out, the shame building in the back of her mind. He isn’t here to touch her, and he would not anyways,  _ he does not want to see her body,  _ let alone feel it.

So she reaches down and she touches herself. 

She wonders if maybe this was the cure to every single one of her problems, but the thought fades with a soft breath and alleviation. She feels herself for the first time after a long while (all because of  _ him _ as well, when she hadn’t known what else to do). She never had any other reason to. Never had she wanted to rip someone out of her brain as much as him.

Taste, smell, smile, feel, his look of awe, his utterly damned perfection. She rubs herself slowly,  _ slowly _ , the way she imagines he would, and the sparks shoot up her spine. She holds onto glimpses of him in her mind’s eye and the heat floods through her stomach, hotter each time, reminding her of just how empty she is, has been. A whimper leaves her and it’s heavy in the heavy air. She spreads her wetness all over herself and ignores the disgust creeping up behind her. 

The disgust at giving in so easily. Being so weak. Of wanting him inside of her, in every sense of the word, while he does not.

_ “Don’t turn this into something it’s not _ .”

Except this is what it is, what it’s come to. An insatiable longing that has extended far beyond the matters of the heart. The slipping away of her sanity, the unnecessary amount of pain that has scarred her indefinitely. She moves her hand faster. Pushing the thoughts away. Making herself feel good. Pretending he’s doing it for her. She has to will herself to stop long enough to slip her underwear off. She spreads her legs slightly wider now, sinking into her bed while her fingers sink inside of her, but it hurts too much. Will it hurt when he…?

If. Would it hurt if he was  _ in her _ ? 

She dares to imagine further. 

As she readies herself to break the spell, to release him from her body for the night, she sighs gracelessly and its weight settles around her. It is then that she realizes there is someone on the other side of her bedroom door. They are calling her name.

Before she could even think to respond, she closes her legs and her eyes, hoping and praying that he just  _ goes away _ . He’s bothered her enough already. Anxiety prickles her guts. He does this to her. Only him. No one else.

The door opens. She feigns sleep. Hates him in the moment

He does not make a sound, not a single movement, at least none that she could sense. She feels his gaze dead set on her. Oh, how exhilarating it was. Empowering, even.

How…  _ gross _ it felt. To be so vulnerable under him. Knowing that she was his, right now. He needs to come closer. 

He needs to stay away. 

She controls her breath, makes sure it’s dainty and sweet, almost putting on a show for him. Trying to make him believe. Or maybe, trying to keep him looking.

Have him want her.

She mewls a bit, squirms onto her side. Enjoys the way his breath catches, closer now than before. His fingertips, bare and trembling, just barely graze the dip of her waist, and then her chin, so afraid to wake her. It almost feels like a secret she wasn’t meant to keep, his delicate touch under soft summer moonlight. She fights the temptation to open her eyes. To let him let her in. 

Except, he’s already pushed her so far away. Watching her fall off the edge. It strikes her how torturous this moment truly was, how helpless she felt against him. She wishes she were actually asleep when he runs a gentle line from her jaw to her chin. The tension makes her want to twist and turn, but she’s stuck playing dead to the world.

“I’m sorry.” 

She more feels his apology than hears it. His breath tickles her ear, and it makes the corner of her mouth twitch. For what he was sorry for this time, she didn’t know. Truthfully, she forgot she was mad at him for a second. Her mind was still hazy and her body laid taut from her lack of release. It almost hurt. 

He slips his hand under hers and lifts it. She looks up at him, finally, with an emotion she cannot name. He doesn’t seem surprised. He presses his lips softly against the top of her fingers, right under her nails.The same ones that had been inside of her moments ago. For a dream she had had of  _ him _ . 

And as he lays another kiss at the tips, she is reminded of a simple fact: there is only one person in the whole entire universe in which she would willingly submit herself to. 

He is kneeling at her bedside, and he is tasting what he does to her.

She has no energy to move. No will, either. No thoughts in her head. A thick stillness fills her instead.

He licks his lips and stares at her. 

“Blue,” she says, thoughtlessly.

“Hm?” 

“Your eyes.”

His response is a deft kiss to the center of her palm.

Then he lets go. 

And just like that, she’s alone again, despite his standing there. His mask looks down at her, expressionless. She curls her arms to her chest. It is only a small comfort compared to what she so desperately needs, but it was all she could do. 

She sees him through his mask, though she could just barely make it out. Something unreadable displayed itself in his gaze, but still, it was intense and brilliant and undeniably  _ blue _ . 

And yet, he does not give himself away. Not to the moment, not to her, not to anyone or anything, and a familiar sting cuts through her chest.  

She can’t live like this. With a pile of rot sitting on her heart. There was no sense in it, in praying he’d stay by her side.

If he wanted her, he could have had her long ago. It’s this split second of contemplation that the exhaustion weighs her down completely, and she gives up. 

Gives in.

“Good night, Star,” he says so quietly, she’s not sure it’s real. It doesn’t matter. Or, more accurately, she didn’t  _ want _ it to matter.

She falls back asleep and dreams of home instead of him.

 


	3. love on the brain

He doesn’t sleep. Every part of him was sore, but he couldn’t relax. For various reasons.

He came up with a theory that last night, (as in, like, a couple hours ago) he was transported to hell, and the devil was tempting him in the form of his teammate. His friend. _Best_ friend.

His very attractive, very vulnerable, _very much doing something intimate_ best friend.

He wasn’t religious, but _damn_ , was he ready to get down on his knees and pray for strength, mercy, _anything_ to get these filthy thoughts out of his head. He needs to be fucking _cleansed_. 

Who knows what possessed him to open that door. He’s been telling himself it was only because he was worried, the way a leader, a _best friend_ would, but.

Except. 

Yet.

This is not the whole entire truth, and he’d rather enter the portal to _actual_ hell than tell her that.

He was dead tired and in the hallway, on his way to what he thought would be a blissful sleep, but he had heard the softest moan coming from her door, _maybe it had almost sounded like his name_ , and his mind left his body. He _felt_ it go, and all his blood went straight down to his dick and it was ridiculous. 

What was also ridiculous was how absolutely insane this girl made him, in every sense of the word.

Not like he’d admit that to her.

He could barely admit it to himself. He fought it constantly, wildly, like it was a disease. But really, truly, he was _so_ close to breaking down, so close to giving in. He could’ve. He knew that look in her eye, she had it again and she held it so gracefully. It killed him when he forced himself to turn away. 

When he walked in, he’d seen her bare thighs, the flash of pink underneath them. He knew it was her underwear. She didn’t even bother to hide it. He _hated_ her for that. They both knew _exactly_ what she was doing, and he didn’t really know what to do about it.

He knew what he wanted to do. But that was never really an option, was it? 

That’s why he hated himself when he brought his hand to her mouth. Her skin was soft, glowing like sunshine in the dark.

She never looked sexier than she did then, just a couple hours ago, staring in a daze as he kissed her taste onto his tongue. 

So now, he’s doing what he does best: beating every single unwanted emotion out of him.

He’s by himself in the training room too early in the morning, practically destroying the punching bag because his brain was torturing him with thoughts of the slight taste he had stolen of her. If he thought about it long enough, he could still smell her, but it didn’t take much thought for the heat to pool down his stomach and to his groin.

His hand wraps were scraping his knuckles, but it only made him punch harder. He wanted to _bleed._ He wanted to bleed everything out. Find some relief. Before he threw all his morals away. Before he really said “fuck it” and did everything she begged silently for him to do.

He almost broke when she saw his eyes.

He could barely register the noises he was making. He knows that they’re loud and uninhibited and his whole entire body _aches_ because of _her_ . It’s _her fault_. She put some alien spell on him, a curse, and it’s made him so addicted to her that he can’t even find the words to convey even a fraction of the feelings she gives to him.

And just as he unleashes his fucking wrath on this poor punching bag with quite possibly the most inhumane noise he has ever managed to conjure:

“Dude…”

He gives himself whiplash. Snaps his own neck. He’s always hurting himself, isn’t he? “ _Wha_ -“

The punching bag knocks him down full force. It is then, he thinks, that karma must be real and thriving.

“You’re so fucking loud. It’s the asscrack of dawn. _Shutup,_ ” Beast Boy says groggily. Robin, panting on the floor, uses the rest of his energy to flip him a nice, fat bird.

The other boy yawns, _loudly_ , and it makes him yawn. His back feels so good on the floor. If only somebody was on top of hi-

“Why aren’t you sleeping, man?”

He huffs. “Work to do.”

“Murdering our training equipment?”

“Go to sleep, Beast Boy.”

“ _You_ go to sleep, good sir. I can’t sleep ‘cause of _you._ ”

He lifts himself into a sitting position, still catching his breath. “Woops.”

He could _hear_ Beast Boy’s eyes roll. He begins to unwrap his hands. The air stings each of his knuckles, and he enjoys the feel of it. They were all bloody and definitely going to bruise. He hadn’t even felt his skin breaking.

“Aw, dude… chill.” He’s closer now, yawning again. “You stress too much, dude.”

“It’s nothing. This usually happens during training sessions.”

“That’s… _gnarly_ for a training sesh. Or, should I say... _anger management_ sesh.”

Robin lifts himself up and starts heading towards the door, fully intending to distract himself through other means alone in his room. Maybe even a shower. A well earned shower. “Alright, won’t bother you anymore,” he says dismissively, grabbing his towel and water bottle by the corner of the room.

“Wait, Robin. We’ve been worried about you.”

He stops by the doorway, but doesn’t turn. He’s too exhausted to have this conversation. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

“Look, I know you don’t exactly have it easy,” his voices croaks, thick with sleep, “But you’re eighteen. The big one-eight, my dude. Live a little. It’s almost the Fourth of July.

“And what about it?”

“Did you forget about the party that _you_ planned?”

Robin turns around then, and smiles at him. A forced, but reassuring smile. “Of course not.”

In reality, he completely forgot, but it’s not like he’d admit that either.

He heads towards his room so he could just go the hell to sleep, but then he catches sight of her door. It’s as if it has a gravitational pull and he just goes with it, stopping right in front. He holds his breath so he could listen for hers.

God, this is what he’s come to? Listening to a girl sleep? The same girl he continues to push away when she deserves the whole galaxy?

He knows he’s an idiot. A perverted one. If only she knew what she does to him. What he’d do to her if she let him. How he’d make her feel so, so good. He wonders if she dreams about him the way he dreamed about her, hot and sticky and nearly every night. She haunted him day and night, and he didn’t know how to flee this time. He can’t give himself to her, no matter how much he wants to. Even though he’s sure he caught a glimpse of her underneath her skirt, curled up on her bed like she hadn’t been doing anything.

He is _weak_.

But he cannot yet accept his fate.

He licks his lips, trying to search for her there. Hoping that there’d be something left, but there’s nothing, his mind is full of nothing but _her_ , sleeping behind that godforsaken door.

He’s leaning against the doorframe, daydreaming and drooling. He has to shake himself out of his head when he hears shuffling coming from her room. “ _Oh shit_ ,” he whispers, making a beeline for his own room. He hears her door open just as his closes. His heart was pounding harder and faster than it should be, yet here he was, clutching his chest like it was his only chance at survival.

He doesn’t know how to face her, or even if he _wants_ to. How could he? He’s embarrassed, guilty, ashamed because of his actions. He’s been out of line, more than ever before, and he didn’t know how much longer he could keep himself from her. It physically hurt him that he couldn’t touch her, hold her.

But he had to lie.

And then he had lay his mouth on her.

He kissed her, after she’d told him not to. She didn’t seem to remember her outburst. It deeply unsettled him, but he had forgotten about it when he took her hand.

Robin lay down on his bed, still calming down from the adrenaline rush. He drums his fingers against his ribs, feels his right eye begin to twitch. He could never convey the exhaustion. She always understood wordlessly. She’s so… in sync with him, it scares him sometimes.

He could see it all drifting away. It’s not a sacrifice he’s proud of. But that’s the life he leads. His body sinks into the mattress, and his eyes begin to flutter shut, finally giving in.

He never wanted to be in love while he was out here on his own. Except he was. It hurt. And he was steadily losing control, reaching towards the edge and off, somewhere he could never turn back from.  

* * *

 July had always felt the most like summer to her. In her time here on Earth, she found June to be the most playful, August to be the most hazy, and July to be the most romantic. It seemed to be the perfect inbetween, a balance of love and lust and moon and sun. She couldn’t describe the feeling July gave her; all she could really say is that it is warm, and she belongs to it.

It has been around eight hours into the first of July. It has not been a good start.

She didn’t sleep after he left. She knew he knew what she did, and the humiliation left her in some sort of shock. Her hand had continued to tingle wherever he kissed it. Even now, hours later, if she thought about it enough, it still did.

She must have done something awful to deserve such an awful punishment in return.

He’s robbing her of everything she has, including her sleep and privacy. As if her pure, unadulterated love wasn’t enough.

She spent the rest of the night meditating. Not seeking solutions, not ruminating through the problems. Simply breathing.

So the next time she has the misfortune of seeing him, which will be very soon, _she will not lose_ the little hold of herself she has left. She spent way too long trying to uncoil her tense limbs, pushing away what was probably the most… how could she put this? _Sexually charged_ moment of her life. Something had opened inside of her, and she was willing it to close up again. It was dark, it was looming over her, and it was exposing her in a way she’d never been before.

Dawn was steadily breaking the night sky when she swore she heard his breathing on the other side of her bedroom door. She was so accustomed to his every movement at this point. What a clorbag. Would he ever leave her alone?

Did she even want him to leave her alone?

She got up to check. Her stomach was curled into knots almost instantly, each step quick but full of dread. Maybe she wanted to see him. Maybe she had a chance, maybe they could talk and it could go back to normal, maybe, _just maybe_ —

He’s gone. Perhaps he was never there at all, and she was truly going crazy this time. She sees Beast Boy walking down the hall, and he offers her a lazy little sign of peace before stumbling into his own room. She feels the bags underneath her eyes, but she simply can’t bring herself to rest. This was, as she has heard many say, the story of her life.

Starfire heads for the roof, needing fresh air, suddenly. It’s humid when she steps out and it sinks into her. Her wound didn’t finish healing. Normally, it would not have taken this long, but considering her… inner turmoil as of late, her healing process had slowed down considerably. What should be clear skin is a browned scar, and it makes her cringe when she looks at it. He looked like him.

She wonders if his eyes are blue, too. How he found her.

_“Don’t turn this into something it’s not.”_

She sits on the edge of the roof with her knees to her chest, cradling herself. She closes her eyes. Remembers how the rain fell on her face, how his breath was deep and even, a contrast to Robin’s barely-there breaths, yet they seemed so much alike. It scares her. Anything could have happened to her just a couple nights ago. She was completely vulnerable, not only physically, but emotionally. X’hal only knows.

A drop of water lands on her cheek. Then another. And another. A light drizzle pours itself over her, and she lets it. She leans on her arms and dips her head back, trying to allow nature to soothe her the way it always has. His fingers were warm and rough; she could vaguely recall them skimming over her ribs, offering a healing hand. He called her princess. Did he know? Did he know her, had they met before?

The rain begins to fall harder. She doesn’t know how long she’s been on the roof. She opens her eyes to a gray sky, a rumble of thunder. Thunderstorms were a terrifying ordeal when she first came to Earth. Now, they merely intrigued her. She finds it oddly beautiful, the way the world seemed to cry. She’s cried for everything she’s ever felt. When she was full of joy, when she held grief, when she combusted in anger, and all the rest.

But now, she is numb. The world must be crying for her, so she watches as it does.

She leans into it.

“Is Boy Blunder not _fucking_ you right, princess?”

Further. The rain pounds harder.

“I _never_ saw you that way, Star.”

A strike of lightning. She invites it. Wills it closer.

“Starfire,” a voice calls. She whips her head around to find Raven at the doorway. “It’s pouring. What’re you doing?”

“Raven, I…”

“Come inside.”

Starfire unsticks herself from the ground and walks to her friend, shivering.

“Go shower. I’ll make you some tea.”

Starfire nods dumbly, heading to the bathroom ina. trance.

She makes sure her shower is scorching hot, trying to get rid of the chill that had taken over her from the inside out. Despite the heat, she still couldn’t get warm enough. It reminded her of when she had fallen ill as a child. She hadn’t been able to keep her body temperature up. She was so sure she was dying, but eventually, she recovered. And she was stronger than she ever was before.

She dries herself off, puts on the clean uniform Raven had laid folded on the counter, and headed to her room.

They sat quietly on Raven’s bed. The storm still persisted outside in what was now officially morning.

Her hands shook around the cup of tea Raven had made for her, as promised. She thinks this is the first time she’s ever done it. It feels nice.

“Are you sick?”

“I am not sure.”

“Why were you just sitting in the pouring rain?”

Starfire is silent for a beat. “I enjoy the rain.”

“You just seemed so… off.”

She shakes her head, not really knowing what to say. How could she tell her? It was too much to even process herself. She wanted desperately to confide to her friend, but she couldn’t find the words. They were lost on her, all jumbled around in her head. Where could she begin?

“Did you sleep at all?” Raven asks quietly.

Starfire continues to shiver, but now, more violently. Raven uses her magic to wrap a blanket snug around her. It helps a bit.

“N-no,” she finally says. “I couldn’t sleep.” She makes eye contact with her cooling tea instead of Raven.

A comforting hand squeezes her shoulder before releasing.

“Starfire…”

She looks up then, unshed tears just about ready to spill over. She doesn’t let them.

“I cannot… even begin,” she whispers. “I do not know what to do. I do not know how to _say it_.”

“I know.”

She takes in a shaky breath, and exhales all the same. Willing her mind to calm. She had someone who felt it, too. And as much guilt it brought her to know her burden was being carried by another, it was a relief.

“Thank you, Raven,” she says quietly, offering her friend a broken smile. It was enough for now.

“You should go to sleep.”

Anything to make it all go away. Even just a little while.

* * *

 She wrapped her arms around his neck, nuzzling her face in the crook of it. His own fell around her waist, holding her close. She always smelled _amazing_. Like fresh strawberries and cream. Maybe she tasted like it, too.

She felt good, soft, warm against his chest. She was all he needed, wasn’t she? He’d tear the world down for her. Hell, he’d tear _himself_ down for her if it meant she’d stay like this, hanging onto him like it’s the end of the end of the end.

That’s what he thought before he hurt her. Before he broke her heart irrevocably. Regrettably.

It’s times like that that make him hate this life.

He stares at the ceiling, searching for answers there. It’s the same game he’s been playing since he was young, when he had first become an orphan. He found none then, and he finds none now. He lost himself then, and he’s lost himself now. It must be a sick fucking joke, but at least now, he actually deserves it.

She’s better off without him, anyways. He did her a favor. Why would she ever want to be with him, anyways? They have a job that’s bigger than them both. It would only ever get in the way. That’s all it’s ever done.

“Yo _Rooooooob_ . Get your skinny ass _up!”_

He ignores the pang in his chest and pulls himself out of bed.


	4. land of the teen (part 1)

"What's so funny?" He throws a jab at her side, but not too hard. She blocks it.

"Oh, nothing. Do not worry about it." She goes for his stomach, but he moves just in time.

"You laughing at my moves, Star?" She giggles breathlessly.

"I cannot laugh, dear Robin?" He inches closer to her, nearly nose to nose.

"You can laugh when you got a _real reason_ to." They walk in a circle, unbreaking.

"Hmm."

Their foreheads touch.

"And look. I've got it right here."

He smirks.

" _Robin!_ "

He tickles her in all her weak spots, 'cause he memorized every single one of them, and she's begging him to _stop_ between laughter and tears. But how can he, when she's right beneath him, all breathtakingly beautiful? And adorable? And stunning? And smelling so, so good?

Yeah. He can't. Not really.

They were sparring in the training room with her hair all up in a ponytail and her little outfit that he had _never_ seen before (he thinks for a second it may have been a deliberate form of torture which absolutely works on him). A sports bra and short shorts and lord, he's a step away from saying "fuck it" and kissing her stupid, breathless, dizzy and everything in between, you name it.

She tries squirming away from his attack, but he doesn't let her go. He's quick to straddle her, but careful not to touch in the place he… most definitely wants to touch.

She tries to grab his wrists, but he beats her to it. He pins her arms down to the ground beside her head and straddles either side of her waist. They're both panting and sweating and the tension that had been rising between them recently seemed to be reaching its boiling point, to the point where just her breath hitting chin was sending shocks down, down, down. He can't tell if he's weak for letting himself fall into this position, into this little _game_ they seemed to be playing, or strong for not indulging in the sweet temptation that is her.

 _Her._ All hair and hips and the prettiest damn face he's ever seen in his _life_.

He smirks. Feigns control like he always does, and leans in, nice and slow. She gasps just slightly. she must think he's finally gonna let himself _go._ To that, he thinks to himself: _Not even for_ you, _Star_.

The feather-light touch of his bottom lip to the shell of her ear just sends at least half of his mind six feet under, mostly because he felt her tense underneath him. His self-control was escaping him, and he nearly had no will to get it back. To kill _absolute perfection._ It was such a shame, that his upbringing brought him here, to both her and the endless ache of this moment. This must be the compromising position in which he dies. He doesn't really mind, though.

He has too much power right now. She's waiting for him, she's _been_ waiting for him all this time, so kind and patiently. It felt cruel to withhold what they were both so eager to receive. But he could give it all, right now. He could give it all and fuck the rest, fuck the problems that'll come along, just _fuck it_.

He could pull back, look into those gorgeous eyes, and start something new from there. He could end the torture, right here, right now. He breathes her name into her ear. Knows she knows. And then he's staring into sparkling eyes, and just as he's about to —

"Yo, party _to-NIGHT_ with the _East Crew!"_

"Oh _hell_ yeah, bro, I —-"

In one motion, he pulls both himself and Starfire on their feet. He gives Cyborg and Beast Boy the _dirtiest_ look he could possibly muster. Morons. _Morons_.

" _Oops_."

Lifesavers.

They back out of the training room, along with their awful, lifesaving timing.

She's smiling awkwardly and tapping her index fingers together, a deep blush across her cheeks. The way she looked right now was just straight up unfair. He waits for to look at him and not down at her feet. And when she does:

"I won."

She giggles.

"Perhaps this round."

He doesn't know how much longer he could survive without kissing her. Maybe he'll have it figured out, maybe he'll find a way, maybe a year from now.

He places his hand on the small of her back.

"C'mon. We got a party to go to."

* * *

A year ago today, she was happier.

So, in some sort of attempt to maintain the little control she has over her emotions, as well as on a whim, Starfire puts makeup on.

It is not much. She used the makeup she bought with Raven in the mall of shopping: some golden eyeshadow that reminded her of the stars, some mascara, a deep rose-colored blush, and a lipstick to match. Rarely did she use cosmetics, but the Fourth of July had grown to become one of her favorite Earth holidays.

She couldn't wait for the fireworks, how they burst in her body and the sky. She always remembered how he smiled that night, and it used to make her heart flutter.

Now, it sunk.

She wore a white dress that flared at the hips, ended just above the knees, and had a neckline that dipped low enough to show a hint of cleavage. She feels pretty in it.

She sits in the ops room, observing the decor that adorned the walls. All she had left to do was wait for the other Titans to get here. She had the blast at last year's party in the Titans East Tower. She laughed so hard that she got dizzy, couldn't even breathe. She misses laughing. Misses the lightheadedness of feeling alive. A year ago, she was floating all day, head in the clouds without the ground in sight. She had felt _beautiful_.

That was when she thought everything would change. That by the end of the night, she'd be given what she asked for. Even now, she still feels the ghost of his lips at her ear. How sickening.

" _Woah_ , lookin' pretty, little lady."

Starfire looks up, instantly blushing.

"Makeup _too_?" Cyborg whistles. "Who you dressin' for? Hmmm?" He waggles his eyebrow, and it only makes her turn redder. It was flattering, embarrassingly so, and she didn't know what to say.

"I thank you, friend Cyborg," she says shyly.

"They'll be here soon. Y'know, Star, I've been meaning to ask you…"

She shifts in her seat. "Yes?"

"Do you know what's been going on with Robin?"

For the second time in a row, he catches her off guard. Something has _been_ going on with him for a while, and she had learned nothing in that time. He made _sure_ she didn't know anything. It irritated her soul.

"I… I do not know. He has told me nothing."

"Well, I thought if anyone knew, it'd be you."

She physically recoils from his statement, and a look of sympathy washes over his face. "Damn, he left you in the dark too, Star. I'm sorry."

She forces a small smile, regretting her reaction. "It is the okay. I am just not sure of much these days."

An awkward moment of silence follows, his watchful eye stuck on her. It makes her squirm. How he managed to make her feel so exposed so quickly flew past her. She has never been one to hide her emotions, and she could just barely keep herself from crumbling anymore. She stands to leave, feeling too uncomfortable. Could the party start already? Could she just forget?

"What did that short bastard do to you?"

Starfire looks up at Cyborg with wide eyes, feeling small under his glare.

"Nothing!" she says too quickly, grinning too widely.

"You talkin' 'bout _me_?" Beast Boy says. She turns in a flash, grateful for the distraction. His eyes widen once he sees her.

"Damn, girl, who you dressing up for?"

"For… freedom?"

"Not everything's about you, pipsqueak."

" _Who you callin' pipsqueak?"_

"You. Pipsqueak."

The boys growl at each other. She cannot tell if they are playing around or not. She backs away quietly, but Cyborg catches her gaze the second she moves. One that knew she'd been hurt, and he'd find out why.

As much as she loved him, she couldn't stand the thought of being humiliated all over again. She doesn't need anyone else knowing about what happened. X'hal, don't allow her to get there. She doesn't think she could handle it.

She walks away from the boys' arguing, but is stopped by that short bastard walking down the hall. He's stock still and staring at her. Her mouth goes dry.

"Makeup."

She touches her face reflexively. Is it ugly, did she look like a _glempork_? Despite the fact that she had just gotten complimented twice over, her insecurity still overpowered her. But why else would he stare in such a way?

"Why're you…?"

She bites her lip, hard. Crosses her arms and tries to make her way past him. She had to get away from him. She'd avoided him successfully the last couple of days, pushed the memories of _that_ night out of her mind. She couldn't look at him without it coming back full-force.

She retreats to her room and wipes it all off.

* * *

The boys were playing basketball on the roof, and all the girls watched. The sun was beginning to set, a light drizzle falling over everyone. It left her in awe. The air was pleasantly warm. For a second, she is thoughtless.

"So, which team are you betting on?"

An arm loops through hers. She looks up to see Bumblebee's playful smirk. Starfire always thought she was pretty, effortlessly so. She smiles back.

"Whichever team is victorious."

Bumblebee throws her head back and laughs, and it makes her feel warm inside. She has been around too many boys lately, and she has grown _tired_ of them.

"Ain't that the truth. You ever notice how boys don't ever let you forget that they're boys?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, like this: we're heroes. We put ourselves in these life threatening situations probably everyday, and you'd think that'd make these boys act a bit more mature. But no. They still act like a bunch of _clowns_ once they get the chance."

Jinx rolls her eyes. "Clowns? An understatement."

"Tell me about it," Raven says.

Starfire watches the chaos unfold on the court. The boys were growing aggressive and cocky, teasing one another like children. It was endearing, to say the least. Insults were being thrown back and forth, namely between Cyborg and Beast Boy, and it makes her chuckle. It was almost innocent, the way they were so determined to play a simple game.

"I see. They act as though they are children at play," Starfire says.

"It's because they _are_ ," Wonder Girl says. "I don't know how you guys do it. Live with them. They'd drive me crazy."

"'Cause sometimes, they're cute. Right, Star?" Bumblebee winks. She thinks that her soul leaves her body. X'hal help her.

"I'm just playing. But that boy of yours… he's something else, isn't he?"

"Oh, no, he is not _mine_ , I-"

"He's been sneaking looks at you this whole time. Must be that dress, which is _stunning_ on you, by the way," Kole says.

"Yeah, what a— mm!" Jinx says before being interrupted with a kiss to the lips.

"Sorry, babe. Just missed ya," Kid Flash winks before speeding off back to the court.

Bumblebee sighs. "Aww, look at Jinx and her man."

"So adorable," Argent says.

"Well, like you said… _clowns_."

Still, Jinx blushes and looks down at her feet. It fills Starfire with this indescribable feeling. One perhaps of awe, of longing, of… jealousy? Whatever it is, it brews inside of her chest, and it stays.

"The rain's starting to come down. And I don't like it," Raven says.

" _Clowns_ , I mean _boys,_ " Jinx yells. " _We're leaving you!_ "

"Babe, a little rain won't hurt anybody!" Kid Flash yells back.

"You girls scared of getting a little wet?" Aqualad says.

His eyes then lock on hers, and he winks. Her eyebrows shoot all the way up. She did _not_ expect that. The basketball comes flying at his head, seemingly from nowhere. He yelps in surprise and whips his head around, searching for the culprit.

"My bad, man," Robin says.

Thunder sounds. Loudly. It makes her jump.

"What a Fourth of July," Raven mumbles before casting her spell and disappearing into her magic.

"Let's go," Bumblebee says before grabbing Starfire's hand and leading her to the staircase, the other girls behind them.

Once they enter the ops room, the boys follow suit, filling the room with even more noise. Cyborg, the honorary cook of the night, heads to the kitchen.

"Yo, Star, you gonna help me or what?"

"Of course." She floats over to him, still on a slight high from her long overdue socialization. "I shall prepare my favorite Tamaranean dessert!"

"Yeah, you can go ahead and do that, but I already made some dessert. Could you do me a favor and pass me the meat in the fridge?"

With a pout, she obliges. She forgets often that her alien cuisine isn't exactly a favorite among her peers. She opens the fridge and spots a beautifully crafted cake, immediately going wide-eyed and hungry. _Hungry_. She's hungry. She doesn't know what kind of cake it is, with vanilla icing and the cocoa dusting on top. It is simply _tantalizing_ in this very moment.

"Quick, Star, while the grill's hot."

"My apologies!" She springs into action, grabbing the packs of meat and walking over to Cyborg. She places it gently on the counter.

"That cake… did you prepare it yourself?"

Cyborg chuckles. "Yeah. Look good?"

"Delicious. May you please teach me how to make it? I almost could not contain myself at the mere sight of it…" Starfire trails off, nearly drooling.

"Of course, little lady. You're acting more like yourself again. Maybe this party's just what you needed."

She nods. "Perhaps."

"I'll call you when I need you. Go have fun."

She smiles, genuinely. It feels nice. She turns around and begins to walk away.

"And don't let him get in the way," she hears faintly, but she ignores it.

She stands by the couch, where the rest of the Titans did as they pleased, waiting for the storm to pass and for the food that smelled all too good cooking on the grill️. Her stomach grumbled. Her renewed appetite is unexpected, but definitely not unwelcome. She likes having everyone around. It wasn't often that they joined together like this, without some sort of danger present. Maybe it's that she can finally relax a little.

She feels a hand brush against her back, and then she's tense all over again. She turns to meet dark eyes.

"Oh," she huffs.

He raises a brow, teasingly. "Oh?"

"You surprised me," she says breathily. "I trust that you are having the good time?"

"Yeah, but I'm sure I'll have an even better time with you. I mean, if that's alright."

* * *

Damn this stupid party. Could you even classify it as a party? It was more of a get-together than anything.

Damn this stupid get-together. Damn this stupid rain and these stupid games and stupid Aqualad hitting on his gi—

Damn his stupid brain.

He's been watching her since the party began, and how Aqualad's goddamn fish eyes would _not_ stop tainting Starfire's body. He knows she looks amazing in that dress, but god _damn_ , didn't everybody know by now that him and Starfire, they _had_ something?

Had.

God, he knows he's selfish, but he can't help it when some… _guy_ oogles her like she's some exotic piece of meat. It was disgusting to watch him wink at her, and now to watch him chat her up across the room was a new form of torture he never thought he'd be punished with.

But of course, once again, it's his own fault. And he only made it worse earlier today when he froze at the sight of her like an idiot. He vaguely heard the girls talking about how they were clowns or something, and really, from his time at the circus, he wholeheartedly knows that clowns have more charm than he has ever had when it comes to this girl.

That dress looks so _good_ on her. A perfect contrast from her golden skin. He adores the way it fits her body, the way her cleavage peeks out. It must have been made to utterly destroy him. And to his fucking dismay, it's all being displayed right in front of Fish Boy. He is _fuming_. She's blushing and laughing so prettily over whatever dumbfuck fish thing he has to say. When the hell did he take any interest in her, anyways? He could get him kicked out of the Titans, honestly.

He almost loses it when his hand falls on her waist.

"Robbie, I have an idea to pro— dude. You good?" Kid Flash says.

"I'm fine," Robin says through his teeth.

Kid Flash is silent for a beat, before continuing in that annoying way he does. "Alright. Whatever ya say," he leans in real close, " _Dick_."

"Shut. _Up_."

"C'mon, Rob, don't be such a party pooper. Tell Daddy Flash what's wrong." Robin grimaces as Kid Flash wraps his arm around his shoulders. "Don't be shy. You know I don't judge."

Starfire meets his eyes for a split second. She has this unreadable expression on her face, and it makes his gut turn. Aqualad steps a little closer to her, and she seems to welcome it. She glances over at him again, like she's checking. Looking. For what? He clenches his jaw so hard that it hurts. He did this to himself…

"Oooh, I see, I see. You're mad 'cause Aqualad over there's trying to steal your girl."

"She's not my girl."

"Well, everyone thinks otherwise. Except Aqualad, apparently. Not gonna lie, they'd probably have the cutest kids with the _sickest_ powers. All that ocean shit mixed with those bolt stars? What're they called? Anyway…" Kid Flash whistles comically. "Better make a move before —"

"Who said that I even _wanted_ to make a move?"

"Well, man, it's pretty obvious…"

"There's _nothing_ going on between us. She can do whatever the _hell_ she wants."

He regrets saying this instantly.

He feels eyes on him, burning all kinds of holes through his skin. He said it loud enough for some of the other Titans to hear, including her. The look of hurt on her face _kills_ him. God, he's really teetering on the edge. How could Wally's stupid comments get him this fired up? He truly lives up to his name sometimes.

Instead of betraying any more emotion, he pulls his face into his signature stony expression. If he acts like nothing happened, then maybe he can believe that nothing really did. Oh, how he wished it were true.

He looks back up at Kid Flash, who's staring at him with this mixture of concern and confusion. If only he knew. But really, he didn't even know himself.

"I'm sorry dude, I didn't mean to… I don't even know."

"So what idea were you going to propose?"

"Well, uh… truth or dare… sounds kinda lame, I know, but I'm sure we could spice it up. Just like the crazy crime-fighting teens we are."

From the corner of his eye, he watches as Aqualad places a hand firmly on her lower back and guides her away. Away from him.

"I guess we could. If everyone's up for it."

Lightning coats the room with light. That's when the power goes out.

* * *

Everyone was situated on and around the sofa, the candles illuminating everyone's faces in an almost, dare she say, romantic way. The rain has begun to die down, and everyone had eaten. Even though they intended to stay on the roof all night, no one was really upset about the rain. Cyborg promised that the power would come back on soon. Truthfully, she didn't want it to. The atmosphere was comforting.

Around the circle, the Titans exchanged scary stories. Starfire always found this tradition odd. What was the joy in instilling fear in both yourself and everyone around you? Every single story made her skin crawl. Aqualad was sitting next to her, and her first instinct was to lean into him as a means of protection. He'd only smile at her.

As pathetic as it made her feel, it was also nice to have somebody by her side. Yeah, she doesn't know him all too well, but he is handsome, and he made her feel as though she was worthwhile in such a short amount of time. Maybe she was wanted by someone, afterall. She believes he may have been flirting with her. She still wasn't used to the idea of being flirted with, but she figured that once she glanced over at Robin and saw that look on his face, that Aqualad was doing just as she suspected.

It gave her a sick thrill to see his reaction. She let Aqualad touch her, let him come closer, just to see if he'd do anything. All she got was insulted from across the room. She didn't know what she expected. It overwhelmed her to hear his words, despite it being the truth. Why couldn't she accept what she already knew?

Perhaps it's not the truth. But she pushes that thought away.

"Are you always this much of a scaredy cat?" Aqualad says with a teasing smirk.

Starfire pouts. "I do not enjoy fearing for my life."

He chuckles and shakes his head.

On the other side of her, Bumblebee pokes her thigh and waggles her brows. As if she hasn't blushed enough tonight, Starfire's cheeks redden once again.

"Yo, Sparky, turn that power back on already!"

"What did I tell you? Gotta wait. Patience, girl."

Bumblebee rolls her eyes. "Boys."

"You got something to say, Bee?"

Starfire giggles as Cyborg and Bumblebee argue. It takes her mind off all these tales of ghosts and monsters and everything in between. She feels a hand at her shoulder and averts her attention back to her companion for the night.

"I've been meaning to tell you how beautiful you look tonight."

Starfire smiles, truly. "I thank you."

"Enough with these lame ass 'scary' stories. Let's get a little _freaky_ , ladies and not-ladies," Kid Flash announces, standing in the middle of the circle.

" _You're_ lame," Jinx says. Everyone laughs.

" _Your mom_ doesn't think so." He winks.

"What did I say about the mom jokes?"

He only blows a kiss in response.

"Anyways, before I was so _rudely_ interrupted," he continues, glaring at his girlfriend, who only rolls her eyes, "why don't we play a classic game of truth or dare?"

"Are we in middle school?"

"I wouldn't know. I didn't even go to middle school."

"Why can't we play spin the bottle?"

"Ooo. Why not seven minutes in heaven?"

"'Cause I don't wanna kiss anybody other than my girl!"

"Is there more food?"

"When's the power coming back on?"

"GUYS!" Kid Flash yells abruptly. "We playing truth or dare or what?"

Everyone mumbles, hesitant to agree for whatever reason. Starfire recalls playing this game once at a similar party quite a while ago. She recalls it being fairly innocuous, so she was not against the idea.

"Everyone, get in a circle. Nice and big. Yeah, that's right. _Alright_. Rules are as follows: be creative, no cheating, and don't be a pussy. Somebody pass me a bottle. Thank you, love. Move those candles for me?"

The group forms a tighter circle around the table. Already, she was growing anxious, and she wasn't sure why. It was all fun and games.

She stares at the candlelight, unsure of what else to do while the other set the game up. She looks up to see him sitting directly across from her at the other end of the circle. The patter of the rain against the windows slows down. She's stuck in time.

"Let's begin." He spins the bottle.


	5. home of the titans (part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! feel free to talk to me on tumblr: marzannaruza.tumblr.com
> 
> thank you for reading <3

"Out here on this lovely night, I see."

Turns out it didn't take long to see her again. It doesn't take long for her to face him, either. She's wearing this white dress, all pretty and angelic and really, he can't help but smirk. How pure she looks despite that _look_ in her eyes, something that resembles rot.

Her whole body tenses before her eyes glow green and she raises her arm, firing up that admittedly sexy starbolt thing of hers. It flickers in her hand, but she keeps her ground.

She's a lot stronger than she looks, he knows this, but he almost feels bad for her. She looks exhausted above everything else. Why was she even here in the first place? Was she looking for something, someone?

Would be pretty damn nice if she was looking for him. His hopes aren't high, though.

He keeps a safe distance from her, despite the fact that he only wants to move closer, closer. 'Cause despite himself, despite the fact that he's been all alone for some time now, he's been wondering about her. Thinking about the way she was all warm in his arms. He wants to know her, wants to get to.

"I'm not here to pick a fight, princess." And really, he isn't. But he's not gonna butter her up, either.

"Then what is it that you want?" she says lowly, almost a growl. It would intimidate him if he wasn't who he was.

Still, though. Pretty hot.

"Just wanna know how you're doing, seeing as you were bleeding out on the street just a week ago." He lifts his arms in mock surrender. "But fine, give me your attitude. Just know that next time you're in dire need of medical attention, I won't patch you up."

With hesitation, she allows her starbolt to spark and die.

"It was you who…" she trails off, gesturing towards her side. She must not remember much. But that attitude. Woof. She's angry.

He likes it.

"Yup. And I did it _aaall_ by myself."

She furrows her brows and stares straight into his masked eyes. "Why?" she says, and it catches him off guard a bit 'cause she says it so softly and, more importantly, she's asking as if he knows the answer. It's kinda funny, so he laughs, but she just tilts her head at him like a curious cat. Well, a pissed one.

"Did I do something humorous?"

"Nah. You're just cute."

She looks both flustered and disgusted. Nice. He loves reaction, response. He wonders how she'd react if he touched her in the right places. Pushed the right buttons. He bets she purrs.

"You here to take me up on my offer?" he continues, smirking. "From what I understand, your boy's not treating you right. Well, you're in luck, cutie," he says, gesturing to himself animatedly.

Like, why _wouldn't_ she want some random dude wearing a mask at night that she only vaguely remembers saving her life about a week or two ago?

"What are you _talking_ about?" she says through gritted teeth, fists curled at her sides.

"You did lose a good amount of blood that night. You probably don't remember. But don't worry, princess, I did nothing but treat that nasty wound."

"I believe I inquired _why_ you did so."

He chuckles. "Why does it matter? You're alive. I'd at least appreciate a 'thank you.' But suit yourself."

With that, he turns and walks away, deliberately slow. Another set of fireworks go off in the sky. He stops and looks up. They're so close that they boom in his chest, and he welcomes the feel of it. Behind him, she whimpers, not unlike a hurt kitten. Must've caught her off guard. She makes no other sound.

He watches the colors fizz and fade and die and he waits silently. She hasn't moved, not an inch. Her presence is so heavy and warm, it radiates all over his back. He's been feeling it all around him since he first found her, and he doubts he'll be able to shake it off anytime soon. There's just something about her that pulls him in, makes him dizzy if he thinks about it too much. He wants her heat in his mouth. Wants to know what she tastes like.

He'll take his time. Let her take hers. Build up to something indescribable. Something she won't forget.

"You should not have assisted me," she says so low, he almost doesn't hear it under the last of the fireworks.

"What's that, princess?" He looks over his shoulder to see those cat eyes. They're wide, unapologetic. Afraid. He says nothing more. He waits for her. That's the game he's learned to play: the waiting game. Don't fill in the gaps, or else you'll lose.

"You should not have assisted me," she says again, finally, louder in the now silent air. He turns and makes his way towards her, just to see if she'd step back. She doesn't. "Though I am grateful to you —"

"You're grateful for me not letting you bleed out, but I still should've let you bleed out?" he says with a cocky grin, one eyebrow raised. She's _fun_. She's real cute too with that little pout. No wonder why Dickhead's head over heels for her.

He's closing in on her personal space, but she doesn't cower. The " _fuck you_ " kinda look on her face is _kinda_ turning him on. He'd gladly let her.

"You're not making a whole lotta sense, cutie."

"Then allow me to _speak_ ," she bites back.

He hasn't been this entertained in awhile. Maybe it's that he hasn't really spoken to anybody lately, or the fact that he simply likes riling people up. Alien chicks, too.

He leans in just a bit closer, lips inches from her ear. "Sorry, princess. I won't interrupt you again."

Once he locks eyes with her again, he smiles sweetly. Lets his dimples show. Her expression softens for only a second before she's back to her cute little tough schtick.

"I am grateful for you assisting me," she repeats herself, speaking confidently, gracefully. "I thank you. But I cannot help," her voice wavers, "but wonder…" she trails off, looking down at her feet.

"Hmm?" he breathes.

"Perhaps it would have been best to leave me there."

"Now, why's that?"

She's silent, and he lets her be. He thinks back to when he saw her last, how destroyed she looked. It was fucking weird how drawn he was to her. He honestly could've left her there, let golden boy find her half-dead deep in the city.

For once, his intentions are, for the most part, as much as they _could_ be, pure. He doesn't mean her any harm. No, that's not a face he could hurt. He's not as depraved as he makes himself seem. He just thinks she's pretty. _Real_ fuckin' pretty.

When she looks at him again, tears brim her eyes.

Oh no.

He hasn't exactly been around people lately. Hasn't spoken to a trusted friend, let alone try to form any sort of connection between himself and somebody else. He threw intimacy and emotion into the ocean to drown when he came back from the other side. But seeing the pain in her eyes, watching something like glass shattering right in front of him makes him involuntarily lurch forward. His chest fucking _aches_ all of a sudden.

He knows this. He understands her, in this moment, without words. He doesn't look away. Doesn't feel right to. Almost like he needs to prove himself to her or some shit. He is a _man_ , dammit.

He doesn't know how much longer he could take it, though. His skin is _crawling_. What the fuck happened to this girl? A tear slips down her cheek, and he panics. When was the last time he did _that_?

"Do, do you…"

She gives him that same curious look from before, all innocent and more. He forces himself to regain his composure. _Don't be a bitch, Todd_.

"Do you like dogs?"

* * *

She has never been one to remain in the past. It was what she was taught as a child, when she lived around and in the present, careless and free. Her people moved forward. Never stuck in the before. The pain.

And here, on a whole entire different planet, she has never missed her motherland like this. She is sitting across from the one person who pushed her forward until he pulled back. Wishing for the kiss she almost had, the searing want a ghost over her skin. Never had she longed to go back to the way things had been. To the springtime, to the summer before, _X'hal_ , even the beginning.

She could feel his eyes behind the mask, prickling her skin, making her dizzy. Whatever fun she was having ended when the bottle landed on him, just a moment ago:

"Robin… Truth? Or dare?" Bumblebee had said with a mischievous smile.

After a beat, and with a smirk: "Dare."

"I dare you to kiss Starfire," she said without a hint of hesitation.

Her blood pressure dropped about thirty seconds ago and she did not think it would climb back up to a healthy level soon.

Cursed. _Cursed_. She is cursed, she knows this for a fact now. His expression reminds her of _that_ night, nearly a week ago, when he'd — when he did that _thing_ after she was doing another thing and what did she do to deserve all of this again? She is running through every conceivable emotion on the Tamaranean spectrum in less than a minute while he simply stares, unmoving.

She has no means of escape, not without making what she hopes isn't obvious, obvious. She makes the mistake of looking at everyone's smiling faces, and panics even more. Her eyes land on Raven's, and silently, she begs for help.

"Robby, ya know ya want to…"

He stands up. X'hal, save her. If he kisses her… if he kisses her, she doesn't know what she would do. Her mind is nearly gone, there is a strong chance she will lose control of herself and do things she'd regret. What exactly, she does not know. This deeply unsettles her.

He walks around the table full of candlelight, closer to her, and it was as though she could feel the strings between them, the very things that connected them, and she wants to cut them off and run away. She's thinking in babbles, glued to her seat, unaware of anything else but him.

What happened to the silly dares just minutes ago? The ones that had her giggling nonstop? The ones that did not involve _lip contact_? Why hadn't he picked truth? He would have gotten a question a lot better than _this_! He doesn't even want to kiss her! Why was he about to? _Was he actually about to kiss her?_ Why can't this just _not happen?_ Why does it have to be that a party game is what makes him _lean in_ , and —

He bends down just low enough that his head is level with hers.

Yeah. Her heart stops. She has died, and she is currently dead. Someone take her back home, so that she may rest in peace.

All she can focus on is the white of his mask. It stands out against the shadows along his face. She learns that forever is merely seconds long, and that if she looks hard enough, she could see his eyes behind the mask, watching her. It's too much. She closes her own. She thinks she can hear the sounds of anticipation coming from everyone else behind the pounding in her ears.

His breath hits her cheek. She thinks she hates it.

"I won't —" he whispers to her before she interrupts him with a hard shove. She doesn't really think about it. She just wants him _gone_ , _away_ from her.

She hears him stumble and fall, still not daring to open her eyes. It seems like nobody even breathes for a moment.

Then, all at once, nobody could catch their breath.

" _Damn Star,"_ Bumblebee says through laughter, shaking her shoulder. "I did _not_ expect that, _whatsoever_." Starfire forces herself to finally open her eyes and look at the girl, who had tears in her own.

Everyone seemed to be laughing. She was _mortified._ For herself, for him, for _both_ of them. They must all take her for a fool. Especially _him_.

She's afraid to look down and see the irrevocable damage she has done to what was left of their friendship.

Except he's not there. When did he get up? She whips her head around, trying to catch sight of him. Where did he go?

" _Woo_ , that was a good laugh," she hears Beast Boy say somewhere beside her.

"Yo. The rain stopped. Y'all down for some fireworks?"

"I'm down."

"Hell yeah."

"To the roof!"

Starfire doesn't follow when everyone files out of the ops room, nor does she really respond to anything anyone says to her in the meantime. She sits in a haze, unable to unravel herself from the blur. A hand rests on her shoulder, and she knows whose it is without having to look. It relaxes her just a bit.

"Sorry about that, Star," Raven says. "But trust me, nobody knows anything, and nobody's making fun of you. Don't worry about it."

She smiles weakly, turning to face her friend. "It is not that."

"I know."

Starfire nods numbly. "I am tired."

"I know."

She sighs deeply. Inhales deeply. Exhales.

"It would be rude if I did not join the others, would it not?"

Raven squeezes her shoulder. She seems to be her only reassurance as of late.

* * *

She doesn't like dogs.

She _loves_ them.

The difference in her demeanor is a fucking trip to witness. Her emotional stability is definitely not here, but it's not like his really exists, either.

He gave her another out, another chance to leave. A chance to get the final say, or maybe even kick his ass for the comments he's made to her in the two times they've spoken.

She stayed.

She is currently next to him right now, having the time of her life, something she may or may not have had if she left him the way she should've and he would've.

What that means, he doesn't know. Except maybe that she just really loves dogs.

He found Eliza a few months ago, shivering all alone on the street. She was a sweetheart from the moment he reached out and scratched behind her ears. She was smaller then, a skinny puppy that was abandoned by who the fuck knows who, but if he ever gets to meet whoever left the poor puppy to die on the street, he will happily beat them to a pulp.

He's always had a soft spot for animals, particularly dogs. He had a dog named Sparky when he was younger, back when he was living in a shithole in Gotham and he had nobody else. He loved Sparky with all his heart. God, he misses that dog.

He wasn't sure what breed she was exactly, probably a mutt. But she looked a lot like a German Shepherd. And holy fuck, was she cute.

She looks extra cute playing with her.

The girl coos as she holds Eliza's face, stroking her fur. What overcame him a few minutes ago, he doesn't know, but he doesn't exactly enjoy seeing pretty girls cry. She giggles as Eliza gives her a little kiss.

"Where did you find such a beautiful creature?" she says breathily, wrapping her arms around Eliza's neck. She rests her head on the girl's shoulder, panting happily.

"I found her a while back, starving half to death in some alley way," he says. "Guess I just have a thing for saving cute girls."

She narrows her eyes at him, but then she's back to bubbly laughter when Eliza jumps from her grasp. "Aren't you the _energetic_?" she grins. He catches a dimple on her right cheek. She's got everything, doesn't she? Gorgeous face, gorgeous hair, gorgeous body, gorgeous smile.

Eliza barks. Woof, indeed.

"She likes you a lot."

She looks up at him with this shy little smile. God. "I like her a lot as well," she says before she leans in and kisses the top of Eliza's head. "Umm… what did you say her name was?"

"I didn't get to tell you 'cause you two hopped onto each other," he chuckles. "Eliza. Her name is Eliza."

"That is a lovely name," she says. She looks over at him with a soft smile and sleepy eyes. "I thank you for introducing me to Eliza. And for your hospitality."

"Hmm, well," he crouches down next to her and scratches Eliza's chin, "no problem. It'd be shitty of me to just leave you there when I had the means to help."

"I apologize for my outburst," she says suddenly, looking at his dog instead of him. "I — I…" She sighs heavily.

"Starfire, right?"

Her eyes widen in surprise. "Correct," she says.

"Honorary member of the Teen Titans. Mot from this planet. Arguably the strongest out of everyone. I've heard about you," he continues. She eyes him warily, but she doesn't speak. "I'm sorry for being such a dick when you were, y'know, in pain," he says. Since when was he sorry for anything? He doesn't really realize what he said until after he said it, and he laughs.

"What?" she says softly.

"Nothing. Starfire." He tries out her name and it rolls off his tongue perfectly. He hears her breath hitch. He likes it.

"Are you… are you one of…"

"Nah, I'm not a part of your crew. Or any one. I work by myself."

"Oh…" she says. "You just look so… familiar."

He laughs again. Little did she know.

"Trying to find out more about me, princess?" he teases. She blushes before scrunching her face up into this cute little angry pout.

"I am merely trying to… trying to…"

"Find out more about me. Get to know me a bit better, all the like. I get it, trust me. My ruggedly good looks are simply… irresistible."

She rolls her eyes and continues to pet Eliza. She tries to hide the little smirk at the corner of her lips, but she fails. She's going to kill him. He feels it now.

He holds out his hand, smiling like the cheeky son of a bitch he is. She looks at him, questioning. Hesitantly, she connects her hand with his, palm to palm, and he swears he feels a spark in the space inbetween.

"Nice to meet you, Starfire. The name's Jason."

"I do not believe I have heard that name before. _Jason_."

How does she make his name sound sexy?

"I do not believe I have heard _Starfire_ before," he teases, leaning in for a second before pulling back.

"It is merely my Earth name," she says, not playing into his comment.

"So what's your name, princess?"

She glances up at him like a little kitten. "Koriand'r," she says with this wistful smile, like she's remembering somebody who's been long gone. He feels a lump in his throat.

"Like the herb?"

"There is an 'herb' of such a name?!"

He laughs.

"Yup. _Koriand'r_. Pretty name for a pretty girl."

She blushes, red as her hair, and quickly looks down at her feet. He'd expect for "pretty" to be thrown at her pretty much all the time, but from the looks of it, she doesn't even know what she looks like, let the alone the effect she's got.

Eliza starts to paw at his legs. "She wants to go for a walk," he translates for Starfire, who looked concerned for a split second. "Feel free to walk with us. If not, well…"

He pauses, waiting once again for her response.

"... I hope we meet again, Kori."

She's out of her trance at the sound of her name, like she's been starving to hear it.

"I do not know who you are. I do not know your intentions. I have no reason to trust you."

Well, she's not wrong.

She sighs heavily. Smiles.

"And yet, I have accepted your kindness. This may sound strange, but you remind me of someone I know. Perhaps I…" she shakes her head. He doesn't ask her to finish the thought.

"You have done more for me than you know. Jason, thank you," she says so sincerely it kinda makes his head spin.

She bends down and softly pets Eliza's head, who nuzzles into her hand. "I hope to see you again as well," she says quietly, but still with that smile.

With one motion, she's in the air and he watches her go.

"Kori, you're gonna end me," he mutters to the sky.

* * *

She adored fireworks since the first time that she saw them. She felt them pound through her body each time they popped in the sky, a brand new heartbeat made of sparkling color.

The boys sent them off into the sky, tripping and laughing and running around on the roof. It was innocent, fun to watch. She tries to focus on them instead of the embarrassment she was attempting to stifle.

The moon is a bright crescent above them, stars littered about. She cannot find him anywhere.

"Sparkler?" Cyborg says beside her. She spins to face him. He holds a long, skinny package in his hand. "Remember how much you loved these last year?"

"Oh, yes!" she says a little too enthusiastically, which earns her a raised brow. "Yes, of course. May I?" she continues, a bit more toned down.

"Of course, little lady." He hands her a stick and holds a lighter up to its end. With a flash, it ignites, and she laughs in surprise.

She loses herself in the sight of it for a moment. How precious it was to witness something burn so beautifully. Around her, she hears the whistle and bang of another firework, a chorus of sparkling fires coming to life. Laughter and child's play. A world she is currently not in right now.

Without thought, she glances ahead of her. He stands in front of the stars.

How strange it is that she once thought that by now, they would be out of this state of almost. She is tired of reaching the edge only to find that she has more ground to walk. Tired of looking over and finding that he is just as far away as he has always been.

She had never loved someone in so many ways. As a friend, as a partner, a leader. As a confidante and, perhaps most of all, as a lover. An almost lover. A could-have-been. And for all she knows of the ins and outs of him, she has never been sure of what his heart holds for her. As she holds his stare, her faith in him breaks a little more. It is a shame.

She does not want to love him. She does not believe in him anymore.

She turns on her foot and heads towards the girls, who were receiving their own sparklers. Jinx shrieks in delight once she lights her own with a pink flash of energy. Wonder Girl bumps her hip against Starfire's and winks.

"I thought y'all _wanted_ to kiss," Bumblebee giggles, reaching out to put a hand on her shoulder. "I did not expect _that!"_

The girls laugh again, and Starfire forces herself to laugh along with them. She doesn't want to be embarrassed anymore. Jinx and Argent recreate her moment of shame, with Jinx leaning in with pursed lips. Argent pushes her back and screams.

"Oh, _Starfire_ , I _knew_ it was too late," Jinx sobs dramatically. Something cracks in her. Starfire begins to laugh uncontrollably, and everyone joins in. Even Raven was smirking beside her.

Tears formed in the corners of her eyes. It was truly _ridiculous_ , wasn't it? It made it all hurt so much less.

"Yo, everybody _gather 'round_! Grand finale!" Cyborg shouts over everyone. "It's almost midnight, y'all, let's go!"

As directed, everyone crowded towards the edge of the roof, keeping a safe distance from the last of the fireworks. With her sparkler still in hand, she looks up at the sky, waiting.

"Ready, guys? Gonna be a big one. Hold onto your panties," Kid Flash yells, holding a long lighter.

The boys and girls cheer loudly, and she joins them.

"Land of the free…"

" _HOME OF THE BABES_!"

* * *

Aqualad gives her a tight hug when he says goodbye. His arms were snug around her waist and she would be lying if she said she did not enjoy it. She squeezed him a little too hard, and ignored the eyes burning holes into her back.

"I'm glad we hung out tonight," he says, gasping for breath once she let him go. "We should… hang out sometime."

She smiles up at him. "As am I. And perhaps we should."

He beams down at her. "Good night, Starfire."

"Thank you for coming. Good night."

She says goodbye to each and everyone of the Titans, thanking them for their presence. The night had ended happily, especially for those who had drinks throughout the night, something she hadn't even realized they had partaken. It was a glorious party, despite the uncomfortable circumstances she was under.

She remains on the roof after cleaning up, sitting over the edge in her favorite spot. That's all she seems to do anymore. Look among the stars and contemplate.

He edges into her mind, smiling mischievously, _handsomely_. She would think he was a dream had she not been bandaged.

She was scared, scared of what he might do to her. His actions contradict his words. She doesn't know what to think or feel. Was he setting her up? Was he the reason she fell down? Or was he afraid as well?

What would she say to him if she saw him again?

Ever since that night, everything has felt wrong. Everything hurt her. She is struggling to keep this door open. The door where she's carved all her love into it, the grooves all filled with glimmering gold. His name is in the middle, etched with so much care that she forgets her own.

But how can she love him anymore? Even her blood aches as it runs through her.

"I do not want to love you anymore," she whispers, her thought floating in the air. "I cannot love you anymore."

And although her heart breaks once more, and it hurts in a way she has never had the misfortune of carrying, she cannot deny that for the first time in what feels like ages, just a bit: she is free.

The moon pulls her up like a tide, and she floats in its glowing glory. She soars and she does not stop. Something is calling her. There is someone she may or may not find.

Tears fall freely from her eyes, more of a relief than a nuisance. She doesn't know exactly where she's going, or how long it has been since she had taken flight, but when she lands, she thinks she knows.

"Out here on this lovely night, I see," comes a voice behind her. She turns around.


	6. transmission i

His name tells him he’s a healer. 

It must be a joke, it must be a mockery of him. To think he’d ever be capable of healing others’ while he’s broken beyond repair.

It’s a sick joke. A sick, sick joke. So he laughs about it. 

He’s ashamed to admit that he cries sometimes about it, too.

But when he sees blood, for a split second, it connects. What he read in some book from that big ol’ library in that big ol’ house all that time ago, safe and warm and not alone, it clicks.

Sometimes healing doesn’t tend to wounds. Doesn’t fade scars. 

Sometimes, justice is healing. 

And justice is pain. Justice is karma. 

Karma’s in his hands.

He cocks the handle, exactly how he was trained.


	7. overflow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyyyyy guys. hope you're enjoying the ride so far. i know i am. i just absolutely love putting these crazy teens thru pain, don't you?
> 
> anyways, i just want to let y'all know that this chapter opens up with mentions of blood, violence, and death. it isn't really graphic but probably enough to make you uncomfortable, if you don't like reading about that kind of stuff. this story also contains strong language and will soon have sexual/mature themes (please be patient, this will come, and we will all sin together.)
> 
> thank you for your wonderful, beautiful comments. they make me smile like an idiot. they make my soul leave my body. i'm always refreshing my email. to everyone who gives my story the time of day, if you're reading this right now: you have a kind soul. contrary to the contents of this chapter and previous ones.
> 
> also, don't be afraid to talk to me! i wanna talk to you! find me on tumblr: @marzannaruza
> 
> hope you enjoy!!

For a second, he thinks he's back home.

It's not like he isn't used to it. To seeing it. To detaching himself from it. To the smell of it, thickly distinct and lingering long after he's walked away.

No, it's not like he's never been face-to-face with death itself. Especially on this side of the country.

The petty crime rates have steadily dropped since the Titans came around here. So have homicides. Back in Gotham, this would be a damn near impossible feat.

He's definitely not in Gotham anymore.

But for a second, just a split second — when he turns the corner, and his eyes land on that dark pool of blood, and the body it came from, and the moon shining nice and bright over it all, he's back there.

He's as emotionless as ever.

Someone gags beside him. He crouches down, searching for any wounds, until the body twitches.

"Call an ambulance."

"On it."

It's all too familiar.

Whoever shot the man on the ground didn't make sure they were dead. He's seen this happen a few times before — not all head shots were fatal.

Unless you're a professional.

All he knows for sure is that this man is in pain he can't take the time to imagine.

They got here before the police. That's the case more often than not, but they'll run their own investigation.

Something's off. Something he can't quite place.

A small hand touches his shoulder.

"Pick up anything?"

"Yeah. This guy isn't much of a saint."

He frowns. "What about whoever shot him?"

"Can't see or feel clearly. It's like something is blocking me from it."

"Funny. I've got the same feeling."

"Robin…"

He stands up, and her hand slides down to his arm. Whatever comfort she tries to give doesn't reach him.

"Whatever you're trying to do, don't bother." It takes the rest of his self control to firmly grab her wrist and place it back to her side instead of ripping it away.

"I know how you get. We all do —"

"When was the last time we've come across a homicide? Or, in this case, an attempted one? Hm? An execution style, point-blank murder?"

He's sneering now, blood heating up in the way it hasn't for so long.

"A long time."

" _Exactly,_ " he barks.

" _Calm down_."

Her voice grounds him, but not enough to apologize.

"Whatever," he huffs, smart enough to hold himself back.

"Cops are here. Ambulance is on their way."

"About time," he grumbles. "Let's go."

"Oh thank _god_."

She hasn't spoken since they left, not a single word. She hasn't spoken to him in days either. As he walks back to his bike, the red and blue lights flashing, coming closer, he sees her from the corner of his eye.

Looking at something from a distance. Staring ahead. Raven comes to her side and touches her shoulder the way she touched his.

She doesn't turn. Her lips move in a whisper.

* * *

She looks so pretty mouthing his name.

* * *

His voice still wraps around her and seeps into her skin, the sin it is.

Gravelling and potent, mocking yet kind. It rings in her head even now, nearly a month later. She wishes she did not crave more. To be so compelled by a stranger, it frightened her. He was sudden, with a dimpled smile and a veiled agenda. Whatever desires that conjured in her under his gaze could only be stifled by her fear.

He laid himself down in her mind weeks ago, and he has yet to leave. It is uncomfortable, truly. She knows so little about him, yet his words continued to burn themselves into her brain, impossible to forget. _It must have been that smile_ , she thinks to herself often and regrettably, and pushes it down, down, down.

The way he looked at her made her legs shake, made her stomach flutter. It felt _dangerous_ to be so close to him, despite the fact that he did nothing to harm her. He _looked_ dangerous. But perhaps, that is how he wished to look. Still, he made her feel weak, dizzy. Made her skin tingle in a way she had never felt before. It was torturous, just as much as it was pleasurable.

That, she finds, is _unfortunate_.

How loathsome was he, how tantalizing? Like he has everything she has been missing all this time.

She should have remained wary, cold. But he began to feel warm. And once it spread onto her, she had to leave. The only problem is, a part of her wants to go back.

To Jason. To speak to him. To ask, to _know_ : _why is it that you found me worthy enough to save?_

 _No._ No, she cannot think that way. As if she had no value, as if shame did not haunt her right after every thought of him.

This has been her cycle: getting lost in the same daydreams, feeling the undeniable _pull_ to find it all again, and then the crashing down in which she realizes once more just how _irrational_ she has become.

Everything continues to echo inside of her endlessly.

X'hal, she misses her best friend. But she made the right choice, did she not? She is sound, she is justified, she is…

She slumps down onto her bed with a _huff_.

The questions come to her at night. The fears come alive at night, they always do.

Physically, she has recovered fully. While her powers have not been completely restored, they were now stronger than before. Whatever illness she suffered remained a mystery to her. Still, her energy faltered, and she ran out of it a little too quickly for her liking. Any battles they've had in the last month were exhausting, but she was able to pull through. She was checked on weekly, and found to be relatively healthy, save for her lower weight.

Coincidentally, (or perhaps not so) she felt her strength returning the day after the Fourth of July.

The day after she cut herself off from him. However little she managed.

The burden that lifted off her that day was small, but a relief. Her interactions with him from then on were curt and polite without a hint of the resentment she truly feels towards him. He tries to smile at her, even tries to touch her here and there, little innocuous touches that just did not hold the sincerity they once did. His attempts only result in awkwardness. At any given opportunity, she goes away from him, and he does not follow.

It hurts her to do so. It physically _pains_ her to withdraw herself from him. It takes just about all of her willpower to hold herself back from approaching him, to tell him everything she has been feeling. It runs and spins through her head at any given moment she is not preoccupied. Although he has pushed her away, and created this rift between them in the first place, she still wants nothing more than to close it. Above all else, he is her bestest friend. Or, perhaps, _was_.

How could she leave the rest of the pieces to break when he has been by her side through it all? The guilt ripples through her everytime he looks at her when he thinks she does not know, when he walks into the room and gives her this… this _look_. How could she hurt him back? How could she let go, at least try to?

The answers ache in her chest.

How much more could she possibly wait, with the exhaustion eating her alive?

How pathetic of her.

How selfish.

How necessary.

Is love not meant to be unconditional? Resilient? Able to withstand even the most turbulent of emotions and times? Is it possible that she loves herself more? Or, perhaps, a strange thought to consider: she does not love him at all.

What an awful thing. A world where she does not love the one person who helped her the most.

Home made her believe love was endless; Earth shattered that thought with its bare hands. It almost feels like she has nothing left.

"What purpose does this hold?" she whispers to the ceiling, and none of the walls talk.

* * *

He rolls his eyes when someone knocks on his door.

"I'm working," he shouts, but they just keep _fucking knocking_. It's, like, one in the fucking morning. Whoever it is behind that door, is testing his _patience_.

He sucks his teeth as it gets more rapid and finally opens that damn door.

He doesn't expect to see tears.

" _Robin_ ," she sobs, wrapping her arms around herself.

"Raven, what the hell happened?" he says, wide-eyed, ready to panic. He pushes her gently into his room with a hand on her back.

Does he hug her? Does he hold her? Pat her back? Her head? Stay silent and hope for the best?

She continues to sob, body shaking under her cloak. _God_ , he hasn't seen her like this in a long time.

"Did you have a n-nightmare?" he stutters, awkwardly rubbing her back, and it only does a whole lot of nothing.

" _Y-y-you…_ " she sucks in a breath, fresh tears pouring down her cheeks, " _You're making me…_ "

Was this about his attitude from before? _He_ made _Raven_ cry like this? He wants to kick his _own_ ass right now, if he didn't already.

"Is this about before?" he says so low, and it gets quiet so suddenly that he doesn't even let himself breathe.

How many more people is he going to hurt?

She squeezes her eyes shut and sighs deeply, like she's trying to release every emotion she has in that single breath. He can only stare at her, stock still. Afraid to move.

When is it all going to _stop_?

"I'm sorry, just give me a minute." Her voice is calm, even. Forced. He nods his head. "Give me a minute…" she says again, breathless.

Every possible reason she could be crying is flying through his head right now. Sometimes, he really lives up to his name, alright. The poor girl's probably fed up with all his shit and is one fuck-up away from leaving the team. He wouldn't blame her. If there's anything that he's learned in the past month, it's that he's a real _fuck-up_.

"Relax, it's not what you think."

_Then what is it?_

"Oh," is all he can say.

She sits on the floor and gets into her meditative position, breathing deeply, evenly. His stomach twists with each second that passes by. And a _lot_ of them pass by. He wants to _throw up_.

"Okay. Sorry about that."

That doesn't take the weight off his chest.

"It's okay." He clears his throat.

"Sit," she quietly demands, and that is exactly what he does.

When she looks into his eyes, they're cracked and glassy and he's even more frozen than before.

"Robin." His heart sinks to his gut.

"What is it?"

"You're driving me… crazy."

"Huh?"

She pulls her lips into a frown. "Your emotions. They're all over the place. I can't even hear myself _think_."

"Oh _._ "

"And you're not the only one."

"... _Oh._ "

"Listen to me. I don't know much about what happened between you and Starfire," he can't stop himself from cringing at her name, "or what's going on now. All I know is that _it's too much._ Not only for you, not only for her, but for _me_."

Oh.

"I haven't had the… best handle on myself lately. Just… all these things are happening, and… you guys aren't helping. You can't forget, I feel it all. Especially the pain. And it's just… it's too much for me. So _please_."

"I'm sorry," he whispers.

"Just _please._ Fix this. Fix this before it gets worse. Before I lose my grip."

She stands to leave, and he's _dumbfounded_.

"I…"

At the doorway, she turns back.

She says it so quietly he doesn't know if it's real.

"She loves you, Robin. Too much."

The bile rises in his throat.

* * *

He waits for her in the same place they first met.

* * *

Something pulls her out into the night air, and she's drifting again, hoping to find what she should not be looking for.

"Hey, princess. Looking for me?"

It turns out that he is not so far away. Or at least not far away from where she found him before.

"Greetings, Jason," she smiles, and _X'hal_ , does he smile back.

"What's up, gorgeous?"

Gorgeous? _Her?_

She immediately blushes and tucks her hair behind her ear, looking down at her feet. He dares to step closer. A part of her appreciates his fast pace, despite how dizzy it make her.

He places a finger underneath her chin, and with a gentle push, he lifts her eyes to his, still masked. He's just a dream, isn't he? He must be, no one could adorn such a smile like that, slightly crooked but absolutely charming. When he retracts his finger from her skin, it tingles.

"What is the ' _up?_ '" she replies quietly, tapping her index fingers together. His laugh sends a rush down her spine.

"Nothing much. You need something? Looks like you're searching for something… or maybe some _one_."

"I uh… I was searching for some… _peace and quiet?_ "

She was not behaving this way the last time she saw him — why is she now?

He laughs again and she believes she knows the reason.

"Did I see you earlier tonight, Kori? Or was I just seeing things?"

The sound of her name twists her stomachs into knots.

She takes her bottom lip between her teeth. "I think you may have."

"I'm glad I caught you. It's been awhile, hasn't it?"

"Yeah," she sighs dreamily, twisting the ends of her hair. Just what was he doing to her, speaking so sweetly and kindly?

He takes just a step closer. "You know, Kori, I…" he trails off, biting his lip, and she has to refrain herself from staring. Something about him… intrigued her in such a way that she was ready to fall backwards any second. He chuckles lightly, cheeks dimpling. "I haven't really stopped thinking about you."

She holds her breath.

"Sorry if that's too forward, I know we kinda just met but," he begins, rubbing the back of his neck, and it almost looks familiar, "but I'd really like it if we could, y'know… _talk_."

"Talk about what?" she says, unmoving.

"Nothing specific, just… talking to talk. Like, y'know…"

"...Friends?"

"Yeah," he huffs, "friends."

"And why should I be your friend, Jason?"

A blush creeps up his neck, and she cannot help but giggle.

"I am merely joking, Jason. Your proposal is quite… refreshing."

"Refreshing? How so?"

"I appreciate your forwardness."

He raises a dark, thick brow, almost hidden beneath his streak of white hair. Just the way he looks is… how can she say it in English?

 _Alluring_.

"I take it it's something you're not used to?"

"In terms of battle, of course."

"In other ways?"

She shakes her head.

"Well, Koriand'r," she feels her name run down her back again, "now we've got something to talk about, don't we?"

He holds out his hand for her to take. She lays her palm on top of his.

* * *

Another sleepless night comes past, and he knows that she wasn't in the tower for who the fuck knows how long because he sees her through the window.

He's been trained to question everything, and she was never an exception. Something was off. He could see her beaming in front of the rising sun, and he can't really stop himself. His chest heaves.

He doesn't know what's going on anymore. Maybe he never really did. It's been four hours since Raven spoke to him, and it's all he could think about — he just doesn't know how to fix it. He doesn't know what to say to her without it coming out wrong. His feet move before his mind catches up, though, and then he's outside her door and knocking.

He's just worried. He's just concerned. He's the leader, he has the right to know what's going on with her.

Doesn't he?

It takes a minute too long for her to open her door.

She looks so shocked when she does, like he ripped her out of a good, good dream.

" _Robin,_ " she breathes, trying to mask the guilt that's written _all over her face_ , "is everything the _okay?_ "

"Where were you?"

"W-what?"

"Where. Were. You?"

She gulps. He wants to scream.

"I was here, Robin. Why are you asking?" He sees her fingers trembling. She crosses her arms behind her back to cover them.

"I just saw you out the window," he says gruffly. "Do I need to find out the hard way?"

"I could not fall asleep, so I went outside for fresh air. Is this not allowed?" she says, regaining her composure and pinching her brows together.

_She loves you, Robin._

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I am the 'sure,'" she responds, but it almost sounds like a bite.

"Alright. Sorry."

Without a word, she closes the door.

_Too much._

She loves him, his ass.

* * *

She had stayed out _much_ later than intended.

Truthfully, she is not sure what she had intended in the first place.

Jason, she found, is _funny_. Funny in a way she's never known. Funny in a way that she couldn't stop laughing, that made her feel as what she's heard described as " _high_."

And X'hal, he smells _glorious_.

He made her forget every single problem she has. He even made her forget her heartache, if only for a moment.

It all came crashing down the moment she opened her door, just a few minutes ago.

She slides down the door and stays there, trying to settle her heart before it beats out of her chest.

 _He saw me. I did not even_ think _of the possibility._

The pain rushes back to her body, as if her medicine had worn out. She already misses the numbness.


	8. pushing & pulling me down

“Eric Guccio."

He throws another punch.

"Forty three years old."

Harder.

"Convicted killer, alleged rapist."

He grabs the punching bag before it hits him back. "What's the fuckin' difference?"

" _Oooooh,_ language, Rob."

With a grunt, he starts to unwrap his hands. This wasn't enough to get everything out of him. He needs some _real action._

"You gonna spar with me?"

"With that attitude? Don't think so."

" _What attitude?_ " he growls, baring his teeth at Cyborg, who laughs in his face.

"Damn. What crawled up your ass _now?_ "

"Whatever," he huffs, bending over to stretch. He touches the floor effortlessly.

"You still haven't learned how to _talk._ "

"I think I just did."

"About your _feelings_ , bird brain. Do you ever talk to anybody about how you're feeling? Your deepest desires? Innermost thoughts? What keeps you up at night? Your —"

"I get it." He lifts himself up and begins to stretch his arm.

He used to have somebody to talk to. But then he ruined it all.

"I'm guessing that's a no," Cyborg says. It irritates him even more.

"I didn't say yes or no." He stretches his other arm, staring off anywhere else but at _him._

"Well, I'm still guessing that's a no." He sighs, and Robin tries to convince himself that the silence isn't deafening.

"What does it matter?" he says gruffly when the tension starts to make his stomach knot.

"It matters a lot. You've been… different lately."

"Different how?"

"Angry. Well, angrier. And moody as hell. Best as I can describe it."

He doesn't reply. At this point, he just wants the conversation to stop existing entirely. It's not like he has an answer to any of this. Or at least an answer he's willing to provide. He sits down on the floor and reaches for his toes.

"...And I think I know who it might be about."

At that, his whole body tenses, and he knows Cyborg knows it. He pretends like he didn't. He pretends he doesn't know.

"Nobody's involved in my problems."

"So you admit that you _do_ have problems."

He rolls his eyes.

"I'm just saying, man… I'm here to talk. About anything."

"Yeah, thanks," Robin mutters. He's gotta leave, he needs to shower anyways.

"Don't think we don't notice. Or care," he hears as he leaves the training room.

Sometimes, he forgets he's not living here by himself. He knows he gets so lost in his own head that he loses sight of, well… everything. It's not his most favorite thing about himself, so the last thing he wants to do is drag his teammates into it. Or anybody, really.

There were very few people in his life who he felt safe enough to talk to. But it seems like right now, he's alone. And it's all his own fault.

A prickle of pain grows in his chest. He doesn't fight it.

He showers for a good while, scrubbing his skin raw and also trying to scrub his brain so for maybe a minute or two, he'd stop thinking. Unfortunately, it doesn't work.

He doesn't think he's ever felt this feeling before. It almost reminds him of grief, which was still fairly fresh on his mind, but not exactly. There was no name he could find for wanting something so _bad_ that you can't even admit that you want it to yourself in the first place.

Or maybe there's just more than one.

It doesn't matter what it is. He copes with it the way that's most familiar: channels it into anger, and takes it out on villains in the name of justice, hoping it'll stifle the exact emotion that needs his acknowledgement.

He's too tired to even react at such a ridiculous fucking thought. God, he hasn't slept in nearly a day. What's he doing to himself? How's he supposed to help something he can't even begin to understand?

How's he supposed to tell her he's sorry?

About just a couple hours ago, about what he said to her, about how he's been treating her, ignoring her, hurting her… how?

He gets out of the shower and dresses into his uniform. When he gets out of the bathroom, he sees her down the hallway, and just like earlier this morning, his feet move on their own.

"Star," he says, exasperated, and he watches her freeze in place.

Slowly she turns to face him with a pleasant smile that didn't reach her eyes, or even the bags under them. "Good morning, Robin."

"Starfire, I'm sorry," he breathes, "a-about before… I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry."

 _I'm sorry for everything. I'm sorry for_ everything.

"It is the 'okay.' I understand your previous concern," she says, and then she's walking away from him again, and he can't stand the sight.

He grabs her wrist rougher than he means to, so he loosens his grip on it, giving her the out. He knows it's better if he doesn't touch her at all, but he can't help himself at this point. He's already lost half his mind. And he's mostly lost her.

It takes her a little while to look at him again. He doesn't blame her.

_I miss you. Please know I'm sorry. You know me better than anyone else._

"I'm sorry," he whispers before pulling her body to his.

He wraps his shaking arms around her waist and gently squeezes her, one hand resting on her lower back and the other on the middle of it. He's gotten a few inches taller than her now, but compared to her, he still feels so small.

_Please forgive me._

He rests his cheek on the top of her head and closes his eyes, focusing on the way his chest is pressing against her, alleviating the pressure in it while causing it, too. She's stiff against him, and the sting in his heart only grows. Still, he holds her.

_My lifeline._

He tries to tell her everything without words like he used to.

If only he learned how to open his mouth and speak.

He wraps his arms tighter around her, holding her in place. Constricting her. Maybe he always has, but right now, it's what he needs. _Her_.

He breathes in her sweet scent and doesn't know he's crying until a tear slips through his mask.

_My best friend._

"Robin…"

"Yes?" he says so softly, just for her, and pulls back, placing a hand on her cheek.

A tear of her own runs down it.

"Enough," she whispers.

_My love._

"Enough of this."

He lets her go.

Lets her walk away.

* * *

Her body tries to cry, but all that escapes her is a wretched sob.

The emotion has been building inside of her all day. It is a strange sensation — to be so full of what feels like her world slowly crashing down, and not being able to release it. The noise she makes is one of overwhelm. It does little to take the pressure off her soul.

It is one thing to feel her own pain, another to feel _his_ , so strongly and palpable inside of her it mixes with her own self. But to have it sit on her chest? In her stomach? In her limbs, her veins, simply rotting?

Was she cruel for pushing him away, despite the fact that he pushed her away himself? Despite the fact that _he_ was cruel for pulling her into his arms? For asking for forgiveness when she was trying to forget?

His body against hers… it had made her skin too warm. It had made her want to give in, and that is the last thing she needs _._

But she cannot deny how much she's missed being so close. Just his hands on her sparked something _familiar_. And she just barely has the will to push it down.

For the first time in what must be forever, he held onto her without hesitation. So securely. As if he was _terrified_ to let her go. And a small part of her enjoyed it…

"Yo, Star," a voice sounds outside her door.

"Yes?" she croaks, startled.

"It's _mooooovie_ night, you comin' or what?"

"I am the ' _coming'_ Beast Boy!"

She checks herself in the mirror quickly before leaving her room, a rigid smile on her face. She joins her friends in the ops room, which was only lit by the large screen in front of the couch.

"C'mere," Cyborg says, patting the seat next to him. "I haven't seen you in a minute."

"A minute? Is a minute not… sixty seconds? I do not believe you saw me a —"

His laughter kind of shakes her. "It's an expression, Star. C'mon, you're gonna like what I picked tonight."

" _I_ picked it!"

"Nuh uh!"

"Did _too!_ "

She sees Raven roll her eyes in the corner, and she cannot help but giggle. Her friend looks at her then, with an intensity she does not expect, and she staggers back into something hard.

Oh. Some _one_.

"Sorry, I —"

"Apologies —"

They speak and stop at the same time. Seconds have never gone by so slowly, staring into his mask wide-eyed with no idea what to do. Finally, he breaks the spell with an awkward little smile and walks off, leaving her stunned.

"Oh, look who _finally_ showed up."

"Yeah, our Royal Highness is here. Start the fuckin' movie already!"

"The _language,_ " Cyborg huffs, crossing his arms. "I won't start until the _actual_ royalty sits down."

"Star, c'mon, _I can't wait any longer_ ," Beast Boy whines, staring at her from the couch.

"Don't be shy," Cyborg says a little more softly.

"Of course not!" she finally manages and flies into her seat.

The seat on the right of him. He was all the way in the corner, but still, the left side of her body could feel the heat radiating off of him. If she were standing, she would stumble and fall. That's how hard his presence could hit her, whether he intends it or not.

What the movie is about, she does not know. It's all a blur of sound and color before her vision. All she can actually see is the memories burning holes in her head. All the times they've done this and they sat closer each time. Everything before _now_. What had happened in the morning. How the burning he gives to her had once been bearable, _pleasurable_.

Except now, with him so close yet so far away from her, the sensation sinks into her bones, and it leaves her cold.

She does not know how much time has passed, but when it gets to be too much, she excuses herself and heads to the bathroom to catch her breath.

How can he get her so dizzy? _Always?_

She is aware of the fact that she stays for a bit too long, long enough to rouse suspicion. It was not like her to miss so much time of the hanging out with her friends, but it takes much of her energy to calm herself down. It is almost as if she was working herself into a panic, sitting by his side.

Finally, she exits. She stops when a hand brushes against her arm. Involuntarily, she yanks away from his touch.

Not this again.

She has no desire to speak. No desire to _look_ at him, even. She forces herself to steady her eyes onto his, attempting to keep up the appearance that she is unbotheredby him, despite the fact that she _very much_ is. For once, the guilt filling his features does not hurt her heart. No, in a way, it lifts it.

"I, umm… I just want to apologize for earlier. I shouldn't have, uh…" he says lowly in the darkness of the hallway.

 _Hurt me? Withheld yourself from me? Confuse me? Broken my_ heart?

"...touched you like that."

A part of her wishes he had not said what he just said. That he would tell her the truth, instead.

_That is not what you need to be sorry for._

"It is the okay," she says, stretching her lips into a cracked smile.

"No, it's not."

_Oh._

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, it's _not okay."_

He steps closer, and she steps back. He looks... _pained_ at her reaction.

"What I did, it was not okay, Star. Tell me it wasn't okay."

She furrows her brows. "But I said it was the _okay,_ did I not?" she says firmly, her patience for him already fading.

In an instant, he grabs both of her wrists in his fidgeting hands, and she gasps. "This is okay? Me _touching_ you is okay, Star?" She breaks free and crosses her arms over her chest, another mix of emotions brewing inside of it.

"Tell me it isn't." The pain on his face is potent, his voice defeated. "Tell me it isn't okay. After everything. And I'll stop. I'll stop."

 _You always do this to me. You do not let me_ breathe.

There is too much to say. She does not speak.

The silence is filled with his wild eyes, taking up hours in her mind when only seconds pass.

The alarm sounds.

They move soundlessly. In sync.

* * *

"Aw, shit…"

" _Another one?!"_

Somebody had to be fucking with them at this point. The body in front of them is bruised and coated in blood, soaking deep red into the concrete.

Un- _fucking_ -believable.

"Cyborg, get —"

There's not even a second to think. In an instant, he's running as heat flies out at them. The noise stabs him right in his ear, but he doesn't stop moving.

" _Robin!"_

Until he does.

He literally doesn't know what hit him, just that he's down on the ground and he _thinks_ he felt his head collide with it. That's not what matters, though. What _matters_ is the softness on top of him. _I'm being healed, healed_. Something skimming down his face, something wet coming down it.

His vision comes back in spots, and he didn't even know he lost it. For a second, he focuses on how hard his heart is beating. The next on the warm hands on his skin. The world spins around him slowly.

" _Robin…_ " soft breath skims over his cheek. He forces his eyes to open, and when he sees red, his heavy, heavy hand goes up to touch it. It spills between his fingers.

There's noise around them. He knows her, but he can't find her name. It doesn't matter. All that matters is that this is how it's supposed to be.

He's being lifted up, he can tell that much. Warmth on the back of his head and the middle. He wants to hold onto her like nothing else, but he can't pick his arms up anymore.

" _I cannot. I cannot do it._ " She sounds so sad, but so beautiful.

" _I got him._ "

" _No!_ "

He smiles as her arms wrap around him tighter.

* * *

"Calm down. He's _okay._ "

Still, she does not _calm down._

The all-too familiar feeling of fear has done nothing but weigh her heart and stomach down to the floor. Every breath is followed by a tremble. She can barely stand straight.

The sight of him. Breathless. Bleeding.

Her sob cuts through her and it's too loud to her own ears. Once she leans against the wall, Raven grabs her wrists and chants.

She slides down until she's sitting, the anxiety pulling itself out of her body in pieces. She breathes deeply. Slowly. The way her friend taught her so kindly, until she's able to open her eyes.

"Thank you," she says, reaching for Raven's hand and squeezing. The relief she was just given is astounding.

"Don't mention it." She squeezes back briefly before releasing herself from her weak grip.

Without the crippling tension of panic, Starfire is able to slump forward and rest her head on her knees.

"Raven, he almost —"

"No, he didn't. It would take a _lot_ more than that to kill him."

She sighs, deflated. "But what if…"

"No. That's _not_ what happened. There's no point in thinking that way. He's _okay_ , Star."

"Okay. Okay. Okay, okay okay," she mumbles to herself, wanting for it so badly to sink in. She would continue to cry, but Raven had taken that away from her temporarily. All that is left is exhaustion.

"You are right. You are right. I must not think such a way. But I cannot help it. You _saw_ him, did you not?"

"I know. I did."

"How…" Lifeless. She sucks in a sharp breath. "And in an instant, it caused me so much distress. Enough where I could not even lift him. Fly away. Take him to safety…"

"That's not your fault. Star, trust me, he's taken heavier blows and survived. And when he wakes up, I'll start healing him. He'll be perfectly fine in no time."

With glassy eyes, Starfire smiles. And sniffles.

What had happened a mere hour ago, she did not know. Whoever had murdered that man had most likely set them up. An explosion went off before any of them could turn around. And then another. And _another._ Deep, but healing scratches adorn her arms and stomach. Beast Boy had been hurt as well, superficially. Raven and Cyborg had managed to protect themselves. Robin sustained the worst injuries of all of them.

His head. His arm. She will never forget the sickening crack that seemed to echo once he was struck by debris.

Her weakness. He always seems to be there when she is at her weakest.

The door to the infirmary beside them opens. "Rae, I think he's starting to wake up," Cyborg says.

Raven is standing in an instant. "Hold on," she orders gently before disappearing into the room. To _him._

A hand cradles her shoulder. "I'm sorry that happened, Star."

"But it is not your fault." She lays her own hand on top of his, smiling nervously.

"Yeah, but I should've known to proceed with caution. Robin and I are still looking into the last case. To tell you the truth, it didn't even cross my mind that it could be a set-up."

She gasps slightly. "You think so as well?" Perhaps her suspicions were correct.

"I know so. Call it a gut feeling."

She nods, slighting away from his friendly touch and crossing her arms over her chest. As though she were protecting herself from the recent past.

"But who would…?"

"Could be anybody. Every villain we've come across has had their fair share of life-threatening agendas. But murder? I guess you could say we're lucky it's taken this long to come by."

"How do you mean?"

"In all our time in Jump, as the Teen Titans, we've _never_ seen anything like this. We don't have much to go by right now, but as far as I can tell, it's all deliberate."

She fidgets and bites her lip. Hard. "Do you think they're after…"

He sighs and looks at the door that leads to him. "I think they got a lucky shot."

"What will we _do?_ " she says, wringing her fingers together. "My powers, they are not as strong, and today, I-I-I could _not_ —"

The scream that rips through the air makes her blood run cold. She slams the door against the wall before she can think. They lock eyes before black energy pushes her out of the room and shuts her out. She can only stare dumbly at the door.

His whimpers twist her insides. Like she is falling a part from the inside out.

Even after everything that happened between him, she still crumbles at the sounds, the sights, of his pain. It's _hers_ at this point. Whether she accepts the burden of this does not matter. She is _useless._

Starfire sinks down to the floor and rests her forehead against the door, eyes shut.

She hears Cyborg crouch down behind her. "Hey, it's okay. Rae's just healing his broken arm. You know how it goes."

A hot tear slides down her cheek. She does not dare to move.

"You're the one who kept him safe, Star. Okay? I promise that he's alright."

She nods, feeling like a child again. He rubs her back, but regrettably, she cannot find it in herself to appreciate the gesture. It does not comfort her. It just makes her want to break the door and get to him. See him. Touch him. Talk to him.

"We'll get 'em. Soon." He whispers the promise before standing and leaving her.

In the heat of July, she is cold. She does not know how long she stays there. Her legs go numb.

Nothing is fair. That is a truth she's seen time and time again, everywhere in the universe she has ever been. Nothing is just, nothing is right. Things merely _are_. And they hurt her through and through and through to the point where her heart begs her to stop.

She had decided to withdraw from him. To cut herself off from him. To stop loving him.

So what was this? What has she been feeling since she saw the blood trickle down his face? Beneath the fear and concern for her leader, her teammate, her friend, what was it?

It was as if she had been killed. Struck helpless and abandoned.

There is nothing she can do. She does not move.

* * *

"How are you feeling?"

Like shit.

"Like shit." Just speaking makes his head throb. His mouth is disgustingly dry, too.

Raven helps him sit up slowly and then hands him a cool glass of water. Throwing his head back so quickly makes his blood pressure drop, but he ignores it. When was the last time he's been this thirsty?

_For water or for someone?_

He physically shakes the intrusive thought out of his head. Gross. He feels gross. Probably looks gross, too.

"So what happened exactly?" he rumbles, resting his face in his bare hand.

"What do you remember?"

"Someone holding me," he says without thought.

Raven doesn't speak for forever.

"What happened?"

She sighs, and it sounds annoyed, but he knows she's not. Concerned is a better word. "Explosions went off from the surrounding buildings. You're the only one who really got hit."

"Do you know what or who set them off?"

"No. Robin, you don't need to worry about that right now."

"Is anyone else investigating? Cyborg?"

"No. You need to take it ea—"

Robin forces himself up onto shaking legs. "I need to know what the _fuck_ is going on," he growls. Just as he takes a step forward, Raven grabs his wrist and he's almost embarrassed at how easily she pulls him back.

" _No._ You need to rest."

" _Why?_ I'm _fine._ "

"Yeah, thanks to me. And I'm not done healing you."

"What's there left to heal?"

"Your arm. Your _head._ I had to stop before. You need to gain some of your strength back before I go all the way. _Please._ "

The look in her eyes reminds him of his own. Except a lot more restrained. He stares for a second or two.

Her hand slides down into his. It's strong compared to him right now.

"We'll figure everything out. Just like we always do. But right now, you need to rest."

"I don't think I can."

"We need you to."

"Who's _we?_ " he spits bitterly, pulling away from her. Like he's a wounded animal. "Last I checked, not everybody here cares much."

The sudden surge of emotion gets him dizzy. She guides him down onto the bed.

"That's ridiculous and you know it," she scolds. "You're tired. And _injured._ It could have been a lot worse if Starfire didn't get to you on time."

Her name makes his gut drop. That was _her_. Of course it was. _Of course it was._ Why did she? Of course he'd do the same, but… _why?_

"How much worse?" he mumbles.

"A lot more than a broken arm and a migraine."

Why wouldn't she? She'd do that for anyone. That's the kind of person she's always been.

There's a light knock at the door and without a response, it creaks open.

"Hey. Just checkin' up on ya," Beast Boy says, a bandage under his brow.

"He's fine. What about you?"

"It's nothing. What about _you?_ "

Raven shrugs and looks away. And god, does it make him feel guilty.

"Rob, I'm sorry that happened, man. I'm glad you're okay."

He forces a small smile for his friend. "Well, not nearly as bad as _that_ ," he says, nodding his head toward the white band over his eye.

"Can't wait for this baby to scar. I'll look sexier than _ever_. Right, Rae?"

She rolls her eyes. Hard.

"Hey, uh… what time is it?" Robin says.

"Like… three in the morning, dude."

"What the fuck? How long was I out for?"

"Three hours. You should still be asleep right now." Raven gently pushes his shoulders until he's lying down again. "Or else."

"Speaking of sleep… we've got someone doing just that _right outside_ ," Beast Boy says, voice gradually dropping to a whisper. Robin pretends like he doesn't care. Or isn't listening. Or whatever. He's actually pretty damn tired.

"Stay here," Raven says before leaving the room.

"So, uh… you come here often?

"Who's outside." He picks himself up into a sitting position.

"Nobody…"

"Who. Is. _Outside._ "

"Look, man. Raven's right. You took a pretty gnarly blow tonight. And it's time for you to go _back to sleep_."

"I won't sleep until you tell me who's out there."

"Why does it matter? You never fuckin' sleep. And now's as good a time as ever."

"Fine, if you won't tell me…"

Robin rips himself off the bed, ignoring the black spots in his vision. Nothing feels real for a second. He's gliding.

" _Please, I want to see him…_ "

"Rob. C'mon."

" _He's not looking good. He needs to rest._ "

"C'mon, dude, not right now."

" _I do not care._ "

"Lie down."

" _Starfire…_ "

The knob turns.

They're both standing on either side of the doorway. Before he can register the sight of her, the flash of relief and pain, something that looked like _regret_ , her arms are wound around him.

His stay stock still.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> are y’all sick of the angst yet? are y’all waiting for local bad boy jason? do y’all think rob and star are being dumb in their own special ways?
> 
> i have too much fun writing this lmao
> 
> anyways. just a little side note. the name in the very beginning of this chap was stolen from two people who can kiss my ass. 
> 
> i hope you’re enjoying the ride! things will get even MORE dramatic and even MORE angsty! and THANK YOU SO MUCH for the continuous support!
> 
> talk to me! my tumblr is marzannaruza
> 
> enjoy ♥️🌻


	9. burning cold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, party people. I want to thank you kindly for every view, kudos, and comment. We're about 30k words in, and not even in the middle of the story. Please hold on for the ride lmao.
> 
> I've been writing the last couple of chapters on the beach, and let me tell you, it is a lovely experience. My favorite season is summer, which is why I set the original story and this version during summer. It is the PERFECT time for angst and drama and romance, don't you think?
> 
> Anyways, this is the shortest chapter I've written so far (excluding "transmission i") but it's pretty loaded. I try to hit at least 4k words each chapter, but if it's finished, it's finished, know what I mean?
> 
> This is the longest I've stayed committed to a story, so I'm very proud of this. I hope you're all enjoying the ride so far.
> 
> Enjoy! ♥️

She holds him for the second time that night. She swallows the shame that comes with it.

He is alive. For that, she is grateful. How could she feel so embarrassed by it?

The answer burns in the back of her head.

She is too aware of the fact that he does not move even a fraction. Too aware of his stillness and fast-beating heart and the door closing shut behind her.

With a grimace, he pulls away.

"Did I hurt you?" she says, but it sounds more like a whimper.

"No. My arm. Raven didn't finish healing it."

"Oh." She hugs herself and steps back. "I see."

She can barely make out the discomfort of his expression through her blurring vision. The silence holds her still. Not a tear falls. Not until.

"I was worried about you, Robin," she manages, voice cracking. "I'm glad you are the… okay."

"Why."

"W-what?"

"Why," he repeats monotonously. A statement instead of a question.

"I do not understand." Her eyebrows furrow upwards, her lips pull down into a frown. She is losing control quickly.

"Why were you worried?" He steps forward. "Why did you save me?" Another step. "Why are you here right now?" She backs up against the wall.

His breath ghosts over her face.

"Am I not allowed to?" Her words are of hurt, but anger simmers deep in her stomach.

"I just don't think you really want to."

The anger is quick to boil.

"Are you insinuating I am here purely out of obligation than of concern?"

"Possibly."

"Well, I _assure_ you," she says through gritted teeth, "I would not be here otherwise." Her voice fades to a whisper, and a tear slides down her cheek.

"Hm." He's walking away from her again. "Thank you, Starfire. Maybe you should head to sleep. You look tired." His back is to her, facing the bed instead.

"I am afraid I cannot."

"You had no problem sleeping out there."

She shakes her head, irritation and shame heating her face. The little hold she has on herself is slipping away.

"Robin," she says shakily. Barely concealed rage knocks at the surface.

She does not think she will ever know what it is about him that fills her with fire. Her surest sign of life, this boy was. Is. Always.

The push and pull between them ran hot through her limbs. Why is he being so _difficult?_ As though he was not apologizing to her this very morning?

_You could not leave him faster._

Guilt stifles the heat. She squeezes her eyes shut and turns away, cringing at the memory.

_Remember what he has done. How he has broken your heart unlike anyone else._

"Robin."

"What more do you want?"

"Excuse me?"

"What more do you _want?_ " He whips around, holding his right arm tightly. "I've given you space, I've apologized in more ways than one… and I'm _fucking sorry,_ Star." Each second leaves him looking wilder. He inches close to her once more.

She wants him away. She wants him even closer.

"What the _hell_ it is you want, _I can't give it to you_."

He has her back against the wall. Neither of them can seem to get enough air. She calls for the heat to come back up so she could spit it out of her mouth.

"And what exactly do I want, _Robin?_ "

"Do I have to _say it?_ " he says from

behind his teeth, nearly slamming his left hand by the side of her head.

" _Yes_ ," she says into his open mouth, eyes gleaming and boring into his, "you do."

Then the hand near her face is gripping her jaw and the damaged one is on her lower back, pushing her so that their stomachs touch and so that she can feel…

She gasps.

Everywhere, he surrounds her. Everywhere is where the flames lick, the sparks cover.

He rests his forehead on top of hers, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Their noses brush with each heave of theirs. The hand on her face slides down her neck and then around the back of it, holding her there. He is the only one who knows her weak spot. A knot forms and unravels in her stomach, over and over and over.

The fingers pressing into her back flex, hesitating. Hesitant to let go. She looks at him helplessly. Daring. _I dare you. To come closer._

They stay in the burning heat for too long. The world stays still while it turns faster. Spinning. Burning. Hurting. Again, she waits for him.

_Closer. Closer. Closer._

She thinks she whines when his bottom lip brushes hers. Just the slight touch runs down her spine like summer sun igniting.

She sighs softly, scared to move. Craving to. Needing.

_I need I need I need I need_

The lightest shimmy of her hips makes them both stop breathing. They might have died just now.

He brings them back to life with a squeeze on her neck.

She moves her hips again, fearing absolutely everything in the moment. He responds with a dizzying force, pulling her so hard against him that her back arches off the wall. He threads his fingers into the hair at the base of her skull and holds tightly.

_X'hal..._

With a newfound courage taking over, she lifts her arms and drapes them around his shoulders.

_He feels so good._

The tip of her tongue runs up the center of his top lip.

" _What do I want?_ " she whispers languidly, letting it pour achingly slow out of her mouth and into his.

His palm slides down to the middle of her back, the pressure decreasing. He moves his head until they are cheek to cheek, until his words fall right into her ear.

" _Not this,_ " he breathes.

She would fall had he not been holding her up.

She grabs at his chest, as if it would erase the second before. She does not know how to take it. She feels abandoned, reckless, desperate for his meaning to change.

But she knows. She knows, she knows, she knows. Knows him better than anyone else.

"Not me."

He withdraws from her, and she is so, so cold.

Thoughtlessly, she grabs his collar and brings him back. She cries despite, and because, of the _humiliation_. With her eyes she begs him.

_Stay._

_Stay_

_stay_

His hands encircle her wrists. She is breakable under his hold.

"I can't," he says, defeated. "I can't do this to you."

She shakes her head vigorously, expression contorted in pain.

_do not leave me again_

He brings her hands up to his lips as if we were about to kiss them, but he stops himself. With a frown, he guides them down to her sides and lets go. She crosses her arms over her chest, seeking any comfort for the nearly unbearable ache in it.

How could he _do_ this to her? _Again?_

Too hurt to care about how _weak_ her tears make her look, she lets them flow freely.

"Perhaps you are correct," she spits bitterly before tearing open the door and leaving.

She ignores the confusion on her friends' faces. The loud thump and shout behind her.

She does not stop moving.

* * *

His whole entire body is fucking _aching_.

He could run. He could run to her. Find her again, get down on his knees, the only person he might ever do it for, beg for her to stay.

Except he shouldn't go, _can't_ go, wasn't ever ready for this. Whatever _it_ is.

He clings to his reasoning, still. Maybe it'll make sense again soon. Maybe he didn't fuck up irrevocably, maybe this _was_ for the best and one day she'd know just how difficult it was for him to choose this. To push her away. Far, far, far, far away.

But that's not what he wants. Not what she wants, either.

He fucked up.

Bad.

Lost her.

Her scent and her breath and her stare is stuck on him. He can't breathe. Doesn't really want to right now.

He doesn't know he's hitting the wall, doesn't know he's yelling until it rips out of his throat and into the air. He's wild, lost, grieving, uninhibited, losing something he was never sure he actually had to let go of.

So what was it, then? What was it? _What was it?_ He's breaking all over again.

There's no thought in him left; he runs past his friends and out of the room and into the hall and up to her. He's up the stairs and into the humid night. He can barely see the speck she is, barely see how she turns to him and then turns away.

He falls and sits there until the sun rises.

* * *

He's quick to sneak behind her once he catches her outside his window.

With the tips of his fingers, he grazes her side. "Boo."

She cranes that pretty neck of hers. He wants to wipe that sad, sad smile off her face.

"Hell— _oh._ "

He tilts his head, furrows his brows. "What's the problem, cutie?"

"Your…" she gestures to his face, eyes growing wider. "Mask," she finishes in a whisper.

_Oh shit._

He smiles slowly. "Like what you see?"

She hums, inspecting him like a curious cat. She reaches out to touch him, but hesitates, fingers ghosting over his cheek. "I… _wow_."

 _How the_ fuck _did I forget my mask?_

He shows her his teeth. "You can touch me, Kor. You know I like it when you do."

It's so easy to make her blush. He likes that about her. A bit too much, probably. He takes her delicate little wrist in his hand before she can drop it. His thumb rubs circles into her palm.

"So… why the pouty face? It's breaking my heart," he says with his own exaggerated pout.

She shakes her head. He tips her chin up.

"You can tell me. I'll keep all your secrets." He places his free hand over his heart. "Promise."

"Jason, I am grateful for your concern. But I would much rather not talk about it."

He stumbles backward, acting like he's been shot straight in the chest, clutching it with his tongue sticking out. It's enough to make her smile, just slightly.

"Understandable, princess. But if you shoot me down again, I don't think I'll be able to take it."

"You may have to. I cannot promise you anything."

He raises his brow. "You tellin' me to suck it up?"

She laughs, and it sounds like light. "I am telling you to hold on."

"Can I hold onto you?"

He steps forward and tucks her hair behind her ear. He runs his hand down the length of it, lets it brush against her lower back. She looks at him like it's all a dream. His eyes linger on her heart-shaped lips before climbing back up to her own. She sighs.

He leans in close enough for his hair to brush her forehead.

"That a yes?"

Instead of speaking, she leans her cheek against his chest and then her body against his and _oh_ , it's better than anything she could've said. Without hesitation he wraps his arms around her, stroking her hair and keeping her melted against him.

He tucks her head underneath his chin and sways her gently back and forth. "It's okay, princess," he murmurs, first into the air and then into her hair. "It's alright…"

He can feel her tears on his shirt, and without any sense of rationality, it pisses him off. Who the _fuck_ made _her_ cry? He thinks he knows.

Before it erupts, he stifles the anger with the sight of her against him. She brings her own arms around his middle now, lacking strength.

 _Stupid fucking prick. Dumbass little bitch. I'll fuck him_ up.

"Jason," she mumbles, trying to lift her head.

"Hm?" he says absentmindedly, staring at the sky.

"You are… hurting… me."

He slips his hands to her waist and pulls himself back, keeping a safe distance between them.

"I'm sorry, Kor," he says, rubbing his thumbs along the curves of her, "I didn't mean to hurt you. Y'know, I really _hate_ to see you so sad." He cups her face in his palm and wipes a tear at the corner of her eye. She shuts both, like she's savoring the fact that she's being touched at all.

He'll touch her all she fuckin' wants. All she has to do is say the word.

_God, please say it sometime soon._

"You're killin' me, baby. Talk to me," he says low in her ear. He likes the way she shudders. Grabs his shoulders. Breathes so sweet on his neck.

"It is too much to talk about. How could I even begin?" she says so soft, shaking.

"Hey, hey, no rush. You're just starting to scare me a bit. 'Cause usually, when you come out here to see me, you're _smiling_ and _giggling_ and _talking my ear off_ and —"

She smacks his shoulder. _Hard._

Damn, he loves a girl who can hit.

"Fuck was _that_ for?" He tries to sound big and mad, but he's grinning from ear to ear like the fool he is.

"You know what." She puts her hands on her lovely hips and smirks. It's borderline _evil._

"If you weren't so damn _cute_ ," he stalks closer, making sure to remind her how he towers over her, "I'd smack ya right back."

"Is that so?" she whispers. Her eyes are still glassy. Their noses brush.

"Uh huh. But I'd never make you cry."

Her smile wavers. "Is that a promise?"

"It's a given."

She bites her lip, and he swears her skin's glowing. Gently, she reaches up and skims her fingertips by his eye.

"They are green," she breathes, like a little secret between them.

"Yup. Yours are a lot prettier, though."

Her touch runs down to his jaw. "You are too kind."

"Only for you."

When her thumb grazes the bottom of his lip, he places a barely-there kiss on the tip of it, not even a fraction of everything he'd do to her if she let him.

He's a real dumbass for forgetting to put his mask on. But the way she's looking at him now? He doesn't regret not having it.

She glances over his shoulder and sighs wistfully. "The sun is rising."

He doesn't turn away from her. "I've got a better view," he says with a smirk.

She rolls her eyes and chuckles. "I may have to start going."

"Stay? A little longer?"

"I would love to, but I cannot."

"Can't what? Run away?"

Her look says it all.

"No worries." He pecks her hairline. "But I _am_ expecting you tomorrow. Got something I wanna show you."

"A surprise?" she says, resting her head in the crook of his neck.

"Mhm." He traces the outline of her ear.

With hesitation, she breaks away from him. "I will be here."

She's already an inch in the air. He grabs her knee. "Come whenever. I'll be waiting," he says, winking.

"Good night, Jason."

"Good morning, Kori."

The sun makes her hair look like fire.

* * *

There is no one waiting for her when she returns. No peace of mind she can find, either. There is no reason for her to sleep. She was simply too tired to.

She likes Jason. Undeniably so. She does not want to feel guilty about it anymore, or to deny herself so natural and free-flowing. He reminds her of home, in a way.

She wants him there. Wants _him._ The thought doesn't scare her as much as it did just the day before.

She has lost count of how many times they've seen each other; the amount she'd stay with him always varied. He knows her without many words, and that comforts her deeply. A little piece of kindness when all else has failed her. With him, she can relax.

With him, it does not hurt.

And after tonight — X'hal, she just wants to forget it all. There is no purpose in remembering. She finally has her answer. There is nothing else, now. She has pulled herself away completely.

Now, what is it that Jason wants to show her?


	10. transmission ii

For a month, he dies.

He strips off the layers of rot and shoves them into the dark corner of his closet. Pretends he can't smell anything. He needs to be someone else.

It isn't a choice. It's his only chance of survival.

His jaw and his brain and his veins are sore. His dick is sore. Some nights he can't breathe.

He breathes anyway.

When you die, and you become something, someone else, you learn how to breathe again. And it always hurts.

He remembers the feeling. A lifetime ago. A childhood ago.

A flame erupts in the sky, trailing behind a body under starlight. He can still smell the sweetness of her. Taste it and choke.

He doesn't like the color red much anymore. It isn't the color of the morning. Or a Robin's egg.


	11. melting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! it’s been awhile since a real update — thank you for your patience!
> 
> i just wanna warn y’all that it’s going to get explicit from now on. like, really explicit. i know you know this already, but i want you to know again. ;)
> 
> it’s only going to get more chaotic!
> 
> hope you enjoy ♥️

"Y'know, sweetheart," he lays a kiss upon the middle of her spine, "you might just make me lose my mind one day."

He whispers this, and watches as it runs up, under her skin. She's trembling.

He resists just _sinking_ his teeth into her.

"I hope that you will find it in your heart to forgive me," she breathes, and he hears the smile.

Another kiss, higher. One more. Higher. Higher, higher, higher… that's where she always seems to take him.

When did he let himself go?

"I gotta warn ya, _gorgeous_ …"

He lets his words curl around her, lets his lips linger between her shoulder blades. He lays his tongue flat there and licks up, up, up.

He's laying right on top of her now. His chest is hot against her.

It's not enough. He's out for her. Dying for her.

Maybe he'd die because of her.

His mouth next to her ear. "I can hold a grudge."

Then the taste of her neck is in it, between his teeth and down his throat. He'd swallow her if he could.

He slips a hand underneath her, on her stomach, holding her tight. He doesn't know how bad he's throbbing until she rubs her ass against him. He doesn't know he's grinding down on her until she's moaning.

He bites down on the soft slope of her shoulder, until the skin breaks. _Even her blood's sweet._

"Baby, you taste like _candy_."

He grabs her hips and kneads them in his hands, savoring the softness. His tongue soothes the mark he so selfishly left on her.

Before a sorry slips out of him, he tosses her onto her back. Her bra, unclasped from before, still covers her.

He shoves her skirt up and pulls her roughly to him by her bare thighs, his cock against the heat of her. Still covered there too, but he could feel it dripping.

He's on his knees, her legs open and around him on his bed. His pants are fucking _killing_ him right now.

"May I?"

He practically rips her bra off before she could even respond.

With the way she's arching her back and showing him those perfect tits, he doesn't think she minds.

They haven't fucked. Yet.

It's been a month since they first kissed. A month with all this building up and all this heat that it started to burn him from the inside out.

Just the thought of her gets him hard.

He's in purgatory.

Who cares where he goes next? As long as he has her.

He licks up her left breast from the bottom to the top, biting the softness there. If only her bruises wouldn't heal.

_All mine._

He wants more than a mark.

_Mine._

He wants a scar.

He blows on her and she squirms and she winces and she rubs against his sweet spot. He slips a hand at the base of her skull, cups her pussy with the other, and licks into her mouth.

He sucks her lips and then her tongue and then he's crushing his face against hers and pulling her up onto his lap, gripping her ass. Her arms wrap around his neck, the way she always does.

She starts grinding into him, harder and harder, so fast that he almost can't take it. He takes a nipple into his mouth and rolls the other one with the tips of his fingers.

The noises she's making… melt into his brain and into the ground and up into the air until it sounds like nothing anymore. Except it's everything and more.

She's got him in a haze, feeling so good that he isn't sure she's real.

He always loved girls. Always loved the way they sound when he gets it right, the way they made him feel.

He loves making her feel all that and more.

He takes her other nipple into his mouth, biting gently. She tugs at his hair. He does it harder.

Heat was rolling off of her, and he could feel the ache in it, how she wanted to let go. Harder and faster and faster and harder and _I'll make you cum so many times, you'll only remember my name._

"C'mon, baby," he says into her chest.

She gasps sharply. He kisses her over her heart.

"C'mon, sweetheart."

Then she's gone. He doesn't let her go.

She falls into him. They can't get enough air. But her breath is still sweet against his neck.

Maybe it's heaven. Maybe it's hell. It's a special kind of torture, the way she's so easy to adore. All of her, all made up of sugar and love and he made her bleed.

He'd drink her 'til he dies again. He would, because he's sick, and he's fucked.

" _Jason_ ," she sighs. No, _purrs_.

So, so fucked.

* * *

In this world, the silence hums like white noise you think you hear.

You're not alone, except you are. It's a given. And it used to be what he wanted. About a week ago.

He's not staying here long, anyway.

But _oh,_ does he miss the noise.

Even patrol is boring, but that's not what he's here for. Once he gets what he needs, he'll be headed back home. Try to fix what he left over there.

He'll hide away in his old room in the meantime.

Warm hands cover his eyes.

"Guess who."

"My murderer."

"Close enough."

She lays her palms on his jaw and tilts his head back against her chest. She leans down and gives him a big, wet kiss on the cheek.

He smiles. A little.

"I missed you, Grayson. It's been like…" she trails off, the awkwardness creeping in.

"A year. I know."

A year since that thing they don't talk about.

"Well?" she says, raising a brow, a hand on her hip.

"Missed you too, Babs."

"Now," she sits on his bed and leans over the desk he's sitting at, "why so blue?"

He sighs. "I'm not."

"Yeah. Sure. Whatever."

He shrugs and pretends to read the files in front of him. The ones that Cyborg gave him before he left.

He can feel her staring.

He knows her waiting game.

 _Don't say anything. Don't even_ look _at her._

And he loses it every damn time.

"Did he tell you to check up on me?" He can't help the bitterness in his tone.

She rolls her eyes, but he knows she's satisfied he gave in so quickly. "No, I came here of my _own_ volition, Dick. I wanted to see one of my dearest, and closest friends, in the whole wide world."

He crosses his arms and doesn't bother to look in her direction. "I've been here for a week. Why now?"

"Why didn't you call? Text? Email?" she bites back. _Hurt_.

That shuts him up.

She gives him her classic, " _you're a dumb asshole_ " look that she's perfected over the years.

And boy, does he feel like one.

"I'm sorry. I was busy."

She snorts. "I figured. I also figured you didn't want to see me."

At this, he turns to her, confused.

"You know, after the funeral… then you went back to Jump… it seemed like you didn't want to talk to any of us back home. And I don't blame you. Just don't think I don't want to see _you_."

"Of course I want to see you, Babs. I-I… I don't know."

"Me neither," she laughs sarcastically.

"I don't know anything lately."

"Yup. Me. Neither."

"Didn't you just graduate from the Academy?" he says, smirking.

" _Only_ at the top of the class."

He chuckles. She always brings it out of him.

"I think you were always a lot smarter than me," he says before he could think.

"Hmm, maybe _emotionally_. That kind of intelligence just comes with being a woman…"

He raises a brow at her and she winks back.

"But… overall? I always thought we were pretty much on the same level. Just because I decided to get a formal education doesn't _necessarily_ mean I'm smarter than you."

"That emotional intelligence, he blurts out, afraid to look at her. "I wish I had that."

He didn't mean for his voice to waver, or for the shame to contort his face.

"Oh, Grayson, honey." Her voice can get so soft. "C'mere."

Awkwardly, he obliges, and sits next to her on his bed. She wraps her arms around his neck and holds him close.

He can't help but tense up. The last time someone touched him…

The thought immediately sends him into a spiral. Just as he's about to push her away, she strokes him from the nape of his neck to the middle of his back.

She does it again. And again. And again. Softly, slowly. He focuses on it, lets his body loosen up as the minutes pass by.

She could always see right through him.

"Let me be your friend. I'm here for you."

He relaxes into her and rests his cheek on her head. She runs her nails up the back of his hair, the way he always liked it.

"I'm really sorry I didn't call," he mumbles.

"Yeah. You should be."

"I've been such a shitty friend. To everybody."

She pulls away and cradles his face in her hands.

"Don't say that…"

"It's true." He gently takes her wrists and places her hands in her lap. "I haven't told any of them the truth. Not about who I am, not about what I'm doing here in Gotham… I didn't even tell them about last year. Not even _her_.

"You're not obligated to tell anyone anything."

He laughs bitterly. "I sure do _feel_ like I am."

"Do you want to?"

_Yes. No. Yes._

Fuck _no._

"I don't know, Babs. I don't think I even know how to _say_ it."

"There's no wrong way."

"But there _is!_ " He stands abruptly and starts to pace back and forth. "No matter what I do… it's _wrong._ I always hurt _someone._ I think it's for the best, but then it just goes to _shit._ "

He rips his hands through his hair and pulls it, hard. The anger comes back to him all at once, but as soon as his eyes reach hers, it unveils itself.

And then it's flooding out of him. Not in words, but in tears.

Soundlessly, he turns away from her and rests his forehead on the wall. Prays for her to go away.

But like the things that keep him up at night, (or maybe more like the kind friend she is) she never does.

Maybe he just needs someone to witness how weak he's been. Tell him that he doesn't deserve the luxury of crying, and longing. But she doesn't, and he knows she'd never, and he's not sure what's worse.

The arms that wrap around his back are gentle and warm.

"It's okay," she speaks softly, pressing her cheek against him. "'s okay…"

He grabs her arm to get her off, but she's quick to turn and duck under him. He hides his face in the crook of his elbow.

"Dick… you've been through a lot. You're allowed to be sad about it."

Once the tips of her fingers graze his chin, he tears himself away from her. Standing upright, he stares at her and pulls at the rage simmering behind his ribs.

_Don't give in. Quit being so fucking pathetic._

But he doesn't have his mask on.

She's seen this look on his face before, he knows. The fake disdain and the empty threats. His last attempt at protection before he breaks character.

It's always been the understanding in her eyes that did him in. And with it, the small hope that he'd be forgiven for all he's done.

"You're allowed to grieve. Even for things that only _you_ lost."

His chin wobbles. She wipes the next tear that falls.

"I think it's time to start."

* * *

The city has been quiet.

Comfortingly so — everyone seems to be enjoying the newfound peace. The alarm has not gone off for over a month. Not since the man they found.

And now that _he's_ gone, the silence feels like freedom.

She tells him all of this. All of her thoughts as they come, all of her emotions as they go. They fill the little air that they leave between them when they aren't _kissing_.

And _oh_ , does she love kissing him.

Every night, she comes to him. Sometimes he greets her at his door. Sometimes he takes her elsewhere. Always does he take her breath away.

There is nothing to question. His simplicity is magnetic. She can never help but long for it.

And now, with her head on his chest, she knows she will only miss it more in the coming days.

Her breasts are pressed against his ribs, more exposed than she has ever been in front of him. His fingers run back and forth above the belt of her skirt. It feels like the mornings she has only ever dreamed of.

Only he has taken her this high. Only he holds her as they settle down. His heartbeat slows under her palm.

"Hey," he says so beautifully.

"Hello," she hums.

He turns onto his side, smoothing his hand down the side of her head and then wraps it around the back of her neck.

"How'd you like it, princess?"

She takes hold of his arm and pulls it against her chest. With a bite of her lip, she giggles.

He smiles back. "Looks like we're on the same page."

He rubs circles into her skin, and she immediately leans back into it. The way he touches her so tenderly sparks slowly down her spine and up again.

It begins again, the heat in her stomach. It manifests, and she indulges, eyes closed and her body open to him.

This is what she has been needing. The closeness, the liberation. To have a witness to all of the love that pours from her.

He presses his lips against the corner of hers, and then the other. They press against the top, against the bottom. Then finally the middle, slow and deep, like dipping into fresh honey.

Everywhere she goes, she wants to look into the distance and always find him there. No dream could ever be as rich, as sweet, as full as this. Not even _close_.

"Kori," he breathes, running his hand over her breast and into the dip of her waist.

"Hmm?" she sighs with half-lidded eyes.

"Sweetheart…"

"Yes?"

"Was that your first…" he begins, tucking her hand behind her ear, " _orgasm_?"

She shakes her head. "Of course not," she says, rubbing her index finger along his lips.

He raises his eyebrows high, comically so. " _Oh_."

"Were you expecting…" she kisses him, "a different response?"

"Yeah, I was, honestly."

She throws her head back and laughs.

"I have only ever done it by myself. You are my… _first_ , Jason. I did not _have_ anyone else before…"

He wraps his arms around her and hugs her to him. "Before what?"

Her own wrap around his neck. "You."

"Oh really?"

"Oh, yes. Absolutely."

"Well, I'm happy to give you a good time, doll."

"You have given me _several_ 'good times.' How can I thank you?"

"Hmm… let me give you another."

Before she can think, his teeth nip at the corner of her jaw, then down her neck, rougher and rougher until she is whimpering again.

He soothes each bite with a kiss, each one shallowing her breath even further.

It feels good… so good, _too_ good.

"Jason…"

He moans against her skin, and it almost hurts her insides.

" _Jason_." She threads her fingers through his hair.

"I'll make you feel real good again, sweetheart," he husks into her ear. She takes his jaw into her hand and gently pushes him away from her.

The confused look on his face sends a pang through her heart. She tries to soothe it away with her thumb running across his cheek, and a smile.

"I apologize. I am afraid that I feel quite…"

"Overwhelmed?"

"Yes," she sighs. "Quite _overwhelmed_ at the moment."

"I understand. I understand," he turns and kisses her palm, "I should've asked first. I'm sorry."

"It is the _okay_ ," she giggles. "It is okay. I merely… need some time."

"Yeah," he chuckles. "Definitely. You sound like you're dreaming, sweetheart."

"Mmmm…"

"I'll give you good dreams, princess. I have 'em for you. But only for you."

With a quick glance outside of the window, she sees the rising sun.

"Sometimes, Jason…"

"Yeah?"

"I think that you are the dream."

Almost too good to be true.

* * *

For a week, they hang out. Catch up.

Act a little bit like when they were kids again.

"Shutup, smartass."

"You, dumbass. _Dick_."

It's such a relief to laugh. It feels like it's been years since the last time he has.

"C'mon, hit me like you mean it."

"Why? So you can cry again?"

"That was _one time_ , because I was on my _period_ , asshole."

He rolls his eyes. " _Sure_."

"Alright, Boy Wonder."

She only kicks his ass in sparring half the time.

They talk for hours on end. They talk about everything except the thing they don't talk about.

The one thing that sits heavy on their chests and weighs down each step.

"Do you remember that time when we were —"

"Yeah."

Silence.

He doesn't like silence anymore. He doesn't like how empty his room is. Or how empty the manor is.

Even the streets are oddly empty on patrol.

No news back home, either.

"Everything's good here, Rob — everyone's good."

"Great. I'll be back within the week."

"You sure? I think you need this, man. You even _sound_ a lot better."

"Of course I'm sure. I can't stay here forever. If I'm being honest, I didn't miss it much."

"Yeah, well… maybe a little distance is good. Take another week. We'll be okay. If we need you, you'll know."

"I'll consider it."

He stays longer. Another week, as suggested. He needs to finish his project up anyway.

Barbara leaves before he does.

"Knowledge is power, Grayson. I want to learn how to fight within the system, too."

"I'm proud of you. Thank you for everything."

"You're welcome. Call me. I want you to tell me _everything_. Every. Little. Detail."

"I'll consider it."

Before he knows it, it's been a month since he left home. The end of August is humid and sticky. He's not ready to leave.

He hasn't heard from her. She barely even said goodbye.

He didn't want her to. He didn't want to see just how good it was for her that he was leaving. She used to beg him to stay.

According to Babs, "Your actions aren't unforgivable. While they are completely _immature_ , among _many other things_ , they weren't spiteful. But remember that she isn't obligated to forgive you. What's important is that you learn to forgive yourself."

Now whenever he opens his closet, instead of ignoring all the skeletons in the dark back corner, he looks them in the eye sockets for a second or two, and that's all he can do.

The guilt still eats him alive, but a little less much.

For another month, he keeps dying. He keeps remembering. And then he dies again. Over and over and over.

He needs to be someone else. Someone better than all this.

On a warm September night, he comes back home.

**Author's Note:**

> talk to me! marzannaruza.tumblr.com
> 
> enjoy ♥️🌻🌹✨


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